


A Violent Affair

by lunarsugar



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic), poppylan - Fandom, tora - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Love, Revenge, Smut, Violence, mafia, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 46
Words: 146,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24550048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarsugar/pseuds/lunarsugar
Summary: When a dangerously handsome man involved with the mafia crash lands into Poppy’s life, she’s forced into the underworld, seeking to uncover the truth behind a mysterious notebook, a missing gang member, and a man she just can’t quite stay away from.
Relationships: Poppy/Tora, Tora/Poppy
Comments: 458
Kudos: 217





	1. Trouble

I knew there was something dangerous about Tora the first time that I met him. It was like the whole world around me seemed to grow a shade of gray darker. The warmth of the sun felt just a little colder. But there was something about him that just pulled me to him. Maybe it was the way golden color of his eyes or the deep intensity of his gaze. Maybe it was the fact that I knew he was someone I should stay away from, but I just didn’t want to.

Either way, I had to know him.

“Let’s do it now.” His voice, low and husky broke the strange silence in the car, the blue glow of the dashboard illuminating the uncomfortable darkness in the car. My heart nearly burst out of my chest hearing him suggest doing “it” now. Flashes of bare skin and golden lighting burned into my mind. My skin felt like it was in fire from the feeling of his hand before. A halo of honey eyes boring into mine, fingers tangling, pulling my hair.

“...now! What do you mean ‘do it n-n-now?’” Damn me and my stupid nerves. Keep it cool, Poppy. Keep it cool. He looked over at me, his gaze little more than a passive stare as he jerked a thumb toward the grocery store on the side of the road.

“Dinner.” His mouth curved into a wicked, knowing smile. “What are you getting all excited about?”

A flash of heat filled my face, and I smiled silently to myself. 

“What the fuck are you grinning about?” My heart sank, nausea creeping into my stomach. I glanced into the shadows, trying to will myself back into my daydream as I stood in the cold dampness of a windowless room. A tall figure leaned against the wall near a steel door, little more than a still shadow. The constant sound of dripping water was the only sound that broke the thick silence of the room. 

I tried to move as little as possible with zip ties around my wrists, now cutting into the flesh, blistering and bleeding. My head was pounding, a concussion likely after taking a hard hit to the head, and the pounding was only made worse as scraping and shrieking sound of keys being inserted into the old rusted lock on the metal door screeched throughout the room, and the door was heaved open with a hollow groan and two men entered the room. In the dim light, I could see one of the men: he was shorter, a pale face with hooded eyes looking at me with a glint of humor. His hair was a mess of unkempt cornrows, pulled away from his face by a thick red bandana. Across his right cheek was an angled scar, his nose slightly bruised.

Next to him was a larger man, older, but the resemblance between the two men were uncanny. They were clearly related, with the older man seeming to be the father. His dark hair was slicked back, gleaming a little the small amount of light present in the room. He was a larger man, a pinstripe suit adorning his robust silhouette, gold rings gleaming from his fingers, a chain glinting from his neck, every bit the stereotypical kingpin I had ever seen from all of the gang movies I had ever watched.

The shadow man near the door disappeared into the shadows, reappearing with a single chair and a black cane with a gold topper. He placed the chair down just in front of me. Then, the shadow man came around behind me, striking me behind the knees, as my knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the floor.

“You’ll have to forgive our guest.” Shadow man leered, handing kingpin the cane as kingpin sat down in the chair before me. “Clearly, she’s not used to showing common courtesy when meeting a superior.”

Kingpin nodded and shadow man went back to his station by the door. Kingpin placed his cane over his knees and leaned forward, his face a few inches from mine.

“I understand you’ve caused quite a bit of trouble.” His voice was smooth, and deep. It sent shivers down my spine as I fought the urge to lean back away from his face. Next to kingpin, cornrows smirked, folding his arms, clearly enjoying the scene.

“Although,” kingpin lifted his cane, the golden end tracing my jawline, “it’s hard to believe that a little girl like you could possibly be the one who caused my son a great deal of damage at the hands of Tora.”

Cornrows frowned a little at that statement.

“Rest assured, Tora is not one to strike without reason.” Kingpin explained. “Beyond what you could’ve possibly done to cause a rift between the two of them, I believe you have something that I’m looking for.”

My eyebrows furrowed into a confused frown at that statement as I pored over everything I had ever received since meeting Tora. I knew that telling him I was clueless about what he was talking about wouldn’t work. At this point, it seemed like a lie anyway. He was already convinced I had it, and telling him I didn’t wouldn’t do me any good. Instead, I opted to remain silent.

“Where is it?” He asked, a lethal dose of tranquility laced through his voice.

“It?” I squeaked. Kingpin burst into loud, boisterous laughter, throwing his head back and nearly causing me to jump out of my skin. Cornrows grinned widely at the sound of this, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw shadow man shake his head.

“I figured you were the type that would play dumb. It’s the innocent ones who cause the most problems.” He wiped a tear away from his eyes. “Well. Let me make it a little more clear.”

In a flash, he whipped a pistol out of his jacket, cocked it, and hit me across the face with it, the sting of the butt of the gun burning as my head spun from the sudden strike, dizziness beginning to set in.

“Give me Goliath’s notebook, or I blow your fucking brains out.”


	2. Let Him Go

“I’m not playing nice with you. I just don’t feel like you’re the bad person you’re trying to make yourself out to be.”

When I said it, did I believe it? Did I really think that was fully true? Or was it more that I was angry and hurt that he had taken a picture of me and then had the gall to be angry with me for filing a police report?

Looking back now, I think that maybe I had believed that it was partly true. He had allowed me to grab him by his arm and expose the lie he was trying to live when he told me that he wasn’t the one who had caught me when I fell from the tree. He had pulled away from me that night, trying to keep those same steel walls high and heavy, and slipping that ugly mask he wore firmly back into place for the time being, and I had watched him walk away from me. I was so naive then.

Even after he walked away from me, hearing those words,

“Let him go.”

Let him go. I didn’t want to. I don’t want to.

“No self-respecting lady chases after a man.”

I think I had let go of the concept of self-respect the moment I fell from that tree and into his arms for the first time. But at the time, the old tiger was right. 

“Don’t you think he’s fragile?” She had asked me. He is fragile in his own way. If you were an outsider looking in, Tora would be the stranger you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley. He was the tall, strong shadow leaning against the wall, the tangerine glow of a cigarette illuminating those intense golden eyes, wild strands of dark black hair falling over his face, tattoos up the side of his neck a clear indicator of his abrupt nature, the large black gauge in his ear, a symbol of a rebellious youth. He was the man you saw standing alone on a corner in a black suit, hugging his muscular frame, and decided on an alternate route to avoid him, and heaven help you if he turned his angry gaze on you. There was no escaping him then even if you wanted to.

Even when I told myself that I would just have dinner with him and then push him out of my life...well I couldn’t really do that, could I? He tried to fool me into thinking he didn’t care; that the two of us were just in this together because I had something he wanted and he had something I wanted; but hearing his anger when I defied him was enough for me to know there was a little more to this than he was leading me to believe: lying to him about going to Ares Street, going alone when he explicitly told me not to; looking at the glint of anger in his eyes as he crossed his arms across his chest; feeling the tense anger in his voice when he asked if the thugs at Ares Street had done anything to me.

Looking back at that experience, it’s almost laughable how simple it was to get out of that scrape and deal with a stern chiding by Tora. I would take hearing him chide me again, or even just hearing his voice one more time whether he was angry, laughing, joking, worried—i would do anything to hear his voice one more time.

Staring down the barrel of a gun right in my face with no one but myself to blame for being on the receiving end of a bullet is a far cry from the incident at Ares Street. I guess, as it turns out, I’m not as invincible as I thought, and, what’s more, barreling into situations that I know probably aren’t safe without even telling anyone where I am or what I’m doing...well, I’m not getting out of this alive. And if I’m not getting out of this alive, the least I can do is think about him. He’s the last piece of sunlight that I’m clinging onto in the damp darkness that I’m sitting in.

I swallowed hard, looking past the barrel into kingpin’s eyes.

“The only notebook I have is my own.” I told him. “It’s the same notebook that I keep all of my notes in for my interviews.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Your notebook. Where is it?” He grumbled.

“My apartment. Inside of a brown bag.” I told him. Kingpin paused for a moment before lowering the gun.

“You’re not going to kill me?” I asked him. He flipped the safety back on the gun, examining it, and purred,

“Of course I’m going to kill you. But your purpose has not yet been fulfilled. There are still pieces of this puzzle I need put together.”

He stood, and shadow man moved forward, taking his chair and cane from him.

“Take her to the women. They’ll be able to tell me what kind of price she will fetch if I decide to keep her as my pet.” He looked over his shoulder, smirking at me, followed closely by cornrows, who handed shadow man a syringe before exiting the room.

Shadow man approached me, yanking me up by the arm and jabbing the needle into my neck simultaneously. A brief moment of panic filled me as my mind began to race, wondering what I was injected with, where I was going and who the women were. 

“What did that mean?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it wavered just a little. “What did he mean that he was keeping me as a pet?”

Shadow man glared at me for a moment before the world started to feel a little hazy. I felt my body go limp as shadow man caught me, throwing me over his shoulder before the darkness consumed me.


	3. The Break In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s find out what Tora has been up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the chaos begin!

She hadn’t come home that night, and the chatter in underground realm of Narin City was a little quieter than usual. It was the calm before the storm, and Tora was well aware that something wasn’t right even before he tried texting her, calling her, texting her again, and calling her two or three times more.

He had no trouble entering the apartment grounds. He had waited until someone was leaving to slip into the complex. Trevor was sitting inside of the little glass box that he chose to keep himself in, and for a moment, he rose to confront the stranger entering the apartment complex, but one sideways glance from Tora, and he froze, sitting down, and immediately becoming totally invested in the computer screen in front of him.

Tora knew he needed to calm down and focus. Being on edge, irritated, and even worried creates problems in an environment that could potentially be dangerous. Despite telling himself that she could just be visiting people out of town or maybe she was staying with someone somewhere else in town or even...maybe...staying with another man, Tora found it impossible to simply walk up the stairs to her apartment. He took them three or four at a time, becoming even more irritated when thinking about her body against someone else’s, her lips on someone else’s, her legs tangled up with someone else’s.

“Stop it.” He chastised himself. “It’s all in ya head.”

In his pocket, his phone buzzed. He stopped on the landing of the apartment floor she lived on just outside the door leading to her hallway. He pulled his phone out, seeing Ronzo’s name, and checked the text message:

“They know who she is.”

Tora closed his eyes, anger boiling beneath his skin as the truth started to sink in. Calm down, Tora. Think this through. It was bound to come out. Ya couldn’t keep her out of this forever especially because ya kept pulling her back into ya life.

“Get a report from the detail.” He texted back. His phone was silent for less than three minutes before it buzzed again, and he looked down at a second text from Ronzo.

“She didn’t come home last night. She left for work like she always does. They followed her to work, and she made it as usual. No unusual activity at work or at her home.”

“And no one thought to notify me that she didn’t come home?” He texted back, his fingers flying across the screen as he fought the urge to shatter his phone against the concrete wall and scream in frustration. The low whine of the fluorescent lighting on the landing was beginning to irritate him too.

“Find her.” Two simple words that carried a hell of a lot of meaning. They better fucking find her, or he would make sure they wouldn’t be tracking anyone ever again beyond what they might be doing in hell.

He needed to be silent and make sure to steady his angry nerves. He needed to fight the urge to sprint to her apartment and do what he had been trained to do. Had he ever really experienced this anxiety before? Had he ever had to really work through the waves of anger, worry, guilt, and sadness and somehow find it in him to do his job and not get himself killed? And not get...her...killed.

Killed. He would lose her forever.

“No shit, ya fucking idiot. What else does killed mean?” He reprimanded himself, but the sickening feeling of overwhelming sadness pierced through the tough outer layer he was trying so hard to keep in place. 

“What if she’s dead?” A voice whispered quietly, slithering in and out of his thoughts like an unwanted serpent.

He stopped outside of her door, listening inside her apartment. 

“It would be your fault.” The voice taunted him. Glancing down at the floor, he could see her apartment was dark. The indie music she usually listened to when she was home was off, and the same whining of the fluorescent light in the hallways were the only thing breaking the silence. 

“Look what you’ve done.” The voice whispered, as his mind raced beyond the apartment door into her bed—Poppy, lying on her bed, eyes wide open in terror, tears dried on her face and in her mess of brown hair, blood pooled around her body, clothes ripped off, torn to shreds, bruises on her thighs and neck from being forced to succumb to a man who saw how pretty she was and wanted her, fingernails bloody and missing from a struggle as the curtain from the balcony door quietly billowed in the gentle evening breeze, the whispers of Narin City a soundtrack of her demise.

For the first time since he was a boy, Tora wanted to cry and vomit at the same time. He leaned against the wall for support, closing his eyes to collect himself and maybe even prepare himself for what was inside. The sound of the lights grew louder in his ears. It was like a thousand mosquitos hovering around his head at once.

Tora’s hands shook as they fiddled around his pocket for a lock pick.

“Please let the door be dead bolted. Please.” He found himself thinking, but inside he knew. The door slowly swinging open was the nail in the coffin for him. 

“You did this.” The voice in his head hissed.

Quickly, he entered the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him. Darkness greeted him along, but so did the sweet, floral smell that followed Poppy wherever she went. He was drowned in her scent and unwittingly dragged into the memory of standing with her out in the balcony.

“C’mere.” He had told her. “You’re standing too close to that railing. It’s freaking me out.”

Her hand was so small in his. She was so small to him, so fragile and naive. His attention fell on the balcony door as he silently moved to inspect it. There were no signs of a break in. From there, he moved to her desk where her brown bag sat. Her interviews were in there, and it was closed still closed. The apartment seemed untouched except by her hands.

He looked up, his gaze fixed on her bedroom door and he hesitated for a moment. He needed to know. He took a step toward her apartment, his legs feeling like lead. His hand reached out toward the doorknob and he turned it gently. 

“Ya have to.” He told himself. He closed his eyes, a scared little boy hiding from the monsters in his bedroom and the door swung open with a gentle squeak. He stood at the threshold, staring at the bed, his knees shaking a little as he fought to pull the tough mask back into place. He took a few shaking steps forward, touching the bed, and exhaled a sigh of relief. She wasn’t there.

“It’s not real.” He reminded himself. “It’s not real.”

He glanced down at the pillows, reminded of her sleeping figure, before turning away and heading back into the main room.

His gaze fell on the table where they had shared a meal together. He had taken a picture of the tiger she had made him, and she had flipped out. His mouth curved into a fond smile, and his fingers touched the table momentarily, but his reverie was short lived.

Immediately, Tora’s head snapped to a subtle movement on the balcony and he took a step back into the shadows. All of his defenses and training popped into place naturally. A figure was pulling himself up onto the balcony with an easy grace, swinging his legs over the railing and slinking to the door. Tora watched him gently pull on the door to find it locked. As the shadow man reached inside his pocket for tools to pick the lock, Tora moved quickly next to the sliding balcony door.

He waited, listening to the hushed sounds of the lock sliding out of place and the soft whisper of the balcony door sliding open and shut. Tora watched as the figure efficiently located Poppy’s desk and her brown bag. Quickly, Tora moved out of the shadows and wrapped his hands around the intruders neck, taking him down to the floor quickly and quietly.

“You have five fucking seconds to tell me who the fuck ya are, who the fuck ya working for, and where the fuck Poppylan is before I tear ya apart.” He growled into the intruder’s ear. For a moment, the intruder attempted a shriek in order to draw attention to the apartment, and Tora felt himself lose his temper. He grabbed the intruder’s jaw soundly and jerked it quickly to the side, dislocating it, before slamming his hand over the intruder’s mouth to muffle his tormented screams of pain.

“Keep screaming and you die.” Tora warned.

“If I die, you’ll never find her.” The intruder’s muddled words were hard to understand to anyone who had never gently coaxed information out of an informant before, but Tora had decoded words like these more times than he could count. The intruder’s breath was ragged and loud, the quick buzz and light of a cell phone illuminating his dark eyes, wide in agony and terror. In the blue luminescence, the intruder saw Tora’s mouth curved into a wicked smile, his piercing golden eyes maniacal as the intruder’s heartbeat sped up.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Tora’s hand darted out quickly, grabbing the cell phone and the intruder chuckled. Tora attempted fo open the phone, but the screen shook in a quick denial, requiring a fingerprint to access.

“See? You need me.” Tora felt a quick burst of anger toward the intruder, followed by sadistic satisfaction at the look of pure terror in his eyes as he whipped a switchblade out of his pocket, a low rumble of laughter sending shivers down his spine. Tora gently moved the mask out of the way of shadow man’s ear, leaned in and purred,

“It looks like I just need part of ya. Let’s see which finger works best.”


	4. Miracle on Ares Street

A shock of icy coldness jolted me awake from my sleep. I jerked awake, flying to a sitting position, my head spinning, struggling to still itself. In front of me, an older woman sat, large hookah pipe in hand, a hardened pale face with frown lines sizing me up. The thin, black end of the hookah nuzzled itself between her lips, and thick tendrils of smoke escaped as she tapped the black end of the hookah against her cheek, deep in thought. She hummed a song I wasn’t familiar with, tapping her pipe against her cheek with the rhythm of the song in her head, her shadow moving in and out of the light on the molded walls. The same incessant dripping and dampness told me I was still in the same place, but a different room, and the lack of windows reminded me, unnecessarily, that I was a prisoner.

“You’re a little....fatter than I expected.” She commented, obviously unimpressed with the short dumpling of a body that I had. A short piece of white hair escaped from the low black bun she had pinned back, her shaking hands tucking the escaped strand behind her ear. I shivered, droplets of icy water causing what was left of my clothes to cling to me uncomfortably. Had I really only been here a day? The scent of the perfume I had worn to work that day still lingered on my skin.

“Stand up.” She commanded firmly. I tried to obey the order, attempting to stand, my pencil skirt making it more difficult than I would have preferred, but found my knees buckling from stiffness and bruising from blows and lack of use. My hands hit the stone floor hard, my head spinning again as I felt my body sway with the invisible movement, and madame grunted in disapproval. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw madame heading toward a tiny rusted locker situated in a dimly lit corner, opening it, with a horrific shriek, and producing a wooden cane. What was it with these people and canes?

“I said stand up.” She barked at me, and miraculously my feet found themselves scrambling to plant themselves beneath me, my body screaming at me to let it rest and recover, my mind telling my body to keep going just a little longer. I felt her poke at my butt firmly, tsking as she did so, jabbing next at my sides to measure the fat that I had. Tucking the wooden cane under her arm, madame shoved her hand inside the inner pocket old black blazer she was wearing. She approached me quickly, lifting up my shirt with a harsh yank as a few of the buttons strained and snapped off against my skirt. At first, I began to protest, but one sharp glance from madame, and I quickly learned my place. 

“It’s just a body, Pops.” I told myself. “Everyone has a body. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

She took out a tool with a sort of claw on it and pinched the fatty area above my hips, taking note of the exact amount of fat before moving to my breasts. My face flushed in embarrassment at the realization that she was assessing my BMI.

“I don’t know why he wants you.” She grumbled under her breath, placing the hookah between her lips as she squinted for look at my face, her fingers poking and prodding at my jaw, nose, and mouth, pushing my hair behind my ears and blowing smoke into my face.

“There’s not much I can do with you.” She sighed and returned to her closet, rummaging through it before returning with clothing.

“Put this on.” She instructed. I took the clothes without hesitation, expecting her to leave or turn around. Instead, she crossed her arms, lightly tapping her hookah on her arm. She wanted to witness me dressing. If I hadn’t been in the situation I was in, I might have been humiliated. I might have even blushed at the amount of blatant voyeurism I was seeing from her. Instead, I just wanted to avoid getting beaten more than I had to.

I pulled my clothes off and unfolded the one piece outfit. I slipped my legs through the tight, black, leather material, carefully unrolling it up my body like a pair of pantyhose. It felt like a Catwoman suit. From there, I slipped my arms into the skintight sleeves, zipping the front of the outfit up, and finding it stopped just below my breasts.

Madame situated the hookah in between her lips, reaching out and pulling my breasts to make them pop out of the outfit a little more. I slid on my black, thigh high stiletto boots as madame stepped away from me.

“That’ll have to do.” She grimaced, shaking her head. “I’m not a miracle worker.”

I looked down at my feet, suddenly self conscious about my body, my height...my face. She turned away once more and returned with a sort of necklace. She laced it on over my neck, two prongs digging into my neck as she did so. She touched a second device to the large pendant that dig into my neck.

“Treat this as your reminder.” She explained, switching the device’s remote on. “You run, you get shocked. You leave without telling the boss, you get shocked. You try to take this off, you get shocked. You are now property of, as you will call him, Mr. Yamamoto.” 

It was a shock collar. I was their pet in every sense of the word. My head reeled as I squeezed my eyes shut and reopened them. Madame was assessing me again before she continued on,

“Since he has decided to make you his pet, your new home will be Ares Street. Believe me when I tell you that you are lucky to be working in Ares Street. Less fortunate women wind up in his bed chambers or in the chambers of his men. They do not take care of their playthings.”

I nodded, considering this the first shred of comfort I had received since coming here. She took a step forward, her face inches from my own,

“Believe me when I tell you that they will kill you if you so much as breathe the wrong way. Stay in line. Do what you’re expected to do, and you live. And who knows? You might even enjoy it.”

She nodded toward the door as she knocked on it. Another man, taller and bulkier than shadow man appeared, and madame looked a little surprise. They exchanged a glance between the two and she nodded. Tall man produced a black bag, putting it over my head and jerking me by the arm to guide me to my next destination.

I knew I had made it to Ares Street before they even took the mask off. The smells and sounds were just as I remembered them from two nights before—the last official night of my freedom. The pungent aroma of mold, vomit, and urine intermixed with cigarette smoke, alcohol, and cheap cologne created a nauseating odor that made my stomach turn.

Tora had warned me not to come to Ares Street alone, but I hadn’t listened the first time and clearly, judging by the situation I was in now, I hadn’t listened the last time either. That night, I was supposed to be meeting Mr. Lam again. His men instructed me to leave through the back alley where a black SUV would be waiting to pick me up. That should have been my first red flag, but Mr. Lam was a man who valued privacy and had quite a bit of money. Back exits were hardly unusual for people like that. 

“Yo, Candy.” I heard Tall Man shout. The sound of clacking heels coming toward me told me Candy had responded without making a sound. “New pet.”

My hood was dragged off, and a flash of pink hair and pink eyes looked down at me passively. She scoffed a little at me and then looked back at Tall Man, pointing at me and laughing,

“Who? Her? Must be some mistake.”

Tall Man shrugged, turning toward the bar and he said,

“I don’t ask questions. I make deliveries, and I keep my thoughts out of it. You might want to do the same.”

My eyes flicked around the room, noticing the sign on the back wall “MIRACLE.” Even though the house lights were on, I could see the red and blue lights all over the bar along with the stained, tattered burgundy couches littered between counter tables here and there. Most of the other girls who worked there looked exhausted or seemed high, drunk or a combination of both. None of them wore anything like what I was wearing and certainly none of them had a shock collar on.

“Ugh. Fine. Come on.” Candy huffed, pushing me toward the back. I walked with her, following her into the small dressing room where other girls milled around getting ready for the night, some in big, clear platforms and sheer, braless tops, some in cowboy clothes with short shorts and even shorter tops. Some wore bikinis.

“I know what you must be thinking.” Candy sighed, sitting down in the chair in front of an old vanity that was missing a few bulbs. I looked up at her questioningly. “Why are we all dressed differently? Why are there a few men back here?”

I stared at her blankly for a moment and nodded slowly. It wasn’t quite what I was thinking, but I would take any information I could get.

“We all are indebted to Yamamoto in one way or another, and we made this choice to work off our debt. Some of us have already paid it off and chose to stay. Others of us are not here by choice.” She explained. 

“You must also be wondering why you have this,” she flicked the collar on my neck, “and we don’t.”

I nodded.

“We all had it when we first started.” She explained, pulling her hair back to show me two bright red scars where the prongs had been. “They want to make sure you’re a good girl, and believe me when I tell you that someone is watching you.”

She nodded toward the cameras on the walls, and that’s when I noticed they were everywhere.

“In fact, you have someone assigned specifically to you and only you. He is responsible for making sure you do what you’re supposed to.” She told me. “He’s also responsible for keeping track of how much income you’re bringing in. You don’t perform like you’re supposed to, and he...deals with you.”

I raised my eyebrows, and she continued on,

“You disrespect a client, he holds you by the hair and allows the client to deal with you. You refuse a high roller, he makes you compliant. You disappear suddenly, he’s the world’s greatest tracker, and he will find you.”

I nodded. She looked away for a moment, her lips pressing together, as she said, “And believe me when I say, he can and he will take out anyone who stands in the way no matter who he is, how trained he is, or how big he thinks he is. He will never win, and his death will be on your hands.”

She sat in her memory a moment longer, before taking a deep breath, wiping a rogue tear from her eyes, and resuming her speech,

“You have to decide what’s worth it to you for the night. We all came in with our morals and riding in on our high horse. We all said we wouldn’t do anything more than serve them drinks. Then we all swore they could only touch us and they weren’t allowed to go beyond that.” She said, pulling her purse out of the vanity drawer.

“We all swore we would only give them head, but we wouldn’t prostitute ourselves out. And then...well, you get the gist.” She pulled out an orange bottle of pills, popping one quickly and chasing it with a shot of whiskey. 

“The more money you make, the better treatment you get and the sooner you get this thing off.” Candy motioned to the shock collar. “When you prove you’re trustworthy and an asset to the business, that is.”

She placed a pill in front of me and a shot of whiskey.

“The first night is always the roughest. I wish I would’ve had something to get me through.” She said, checking her makeup in the mirror and beginning to apply makeup to my face as another girl started messing with my hair. I glanced down at the pill in front of me.

“Don’t cry, Pops. It’s okay. You’re still alive. Don’t cry.” I told myself. In one quick motion, I took the pill, chasing it with whiskey and allowed myself to succumb to the effects.

***

Tora wiped the last of the blood off of the switchblade, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and depositing the working finger in that handkerchief. From there, he pulled out his phone, texting Ronzo,

“I need a house cleaning.”

Almost immediately Ronzo responded,

“One of our staff will be there shortly.”

Tora set his phone down and picked up the now unlocked cell phone. The phone buzzed again, indicating a new message,

“It’s a miracle. New pet delivered.”

Calmly, Tora placed both phones in his pocket. He reached into his hair, pulling out the strawberry hair tie Poppy had given him and pulling all of his hair back cleanly. He wanted to look his best when he visited Ares Street. There were so many people he intended to see.


	5. Miracle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter contains descriptions of non-consensual activities that are sexual in nature and sees intense abuse and degradation of a woman. Please be aware of this before proceeding.

The intense beat of house music was making my vision blur as the relaxant kicked in. For the first time all day, my body didn’t ache, and I felt like I was on cloud nine. Every single touch was a sensation I hadn’t felt before: the tray of shots in my hand felt like icy liquid metal, the accidental grazes on my butt gave me shivers of ecstasy. My skin felt awake, buzzing with a hyper awareness and need to be touched and experienced.

“Poppy.” My voice sounded distant for a moment as I continued my aimless walk around the bar, stopping from table to table.

“Poppy!” A sudden whish and snap of my name caused me to jerk my head to the side. Candy was motioning for me to come over.

“That table over there needs few more drinks.” She explained, guiding me over to the bar, where the bartender filled up my tray with drinks. “It’s the boss’ son. He asked for you specifically. Don’t fuck this up.”

I nodded, the room swaying a little as I put one foot in front of the other, heading to a table full of well dressed men. One of them, in particular, stood out: hooded eyes, corn rows pulled back into a ponytail, a scar across his right cheek. He glanced over at me and his mouth pulled into a lazy grin. Immediately, a shiver went up my spine—I knew him. Not only was he in the room the first time that I woke up in this god awful place, but he was in the passenger seat of the SUV that picked me up from my office on my way to see Mr. Lam. How had I not remembered before?

“Well, look what we have here.” He grinned, and a few of the men glanced over their shoulders passively, before turning their disinterested attention back to cornrows. “It’s Puppy, the new pet.”

A few smirks passed across the crowd of men, along with a smattering of chuckles.

“Don’t by shy, little pup. Come on over. We don’t bite much. We might even give you a heavy petting if you’re a good girl.” His grin widened as he patted his knee like he was calling a dog. Fury boiled beneath my skin, and my lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, I opened my mouth to say something only to receive a quick jolt of electricity into my neck, causing me to jump, the drinks on the tray sloshing around. 

“Oh. Looks like Puppy has a little bite to her. It’s alright. All of our bitches are trained well and housebroken.” Cornrows smiled, and again the men around him laughed. 

“Come on, girl.” He whistled. I recomposed myself, and stepped up to set the drinks down on the table. Each of the men grabbed at the drinks like vultures to roadkill—all except for cornrows, who was carefully watching me.

“Why don’t you come sit down?” Cornrows suggested, patting his lap. I hesitated for a moment as the other men resumed their conversations around him. “Come on. I saved you a seat.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Candy, who was giving one of the patrons a lap dance. She made eye contact with me, shaking her head. 

“A-are you sure I can’t get you a-anymore d-drinks?” I squeaked. Cornrows gaze darkened, and he hissed,

“If I wanted more drinks, I would have asked for them. What I want is for you to come sit down.”

I jumped, as he leaned forward, grabbing my arm and jerking me down into his lap. Immediately, his hands clamped down on my hips, pushing me down onto his crotch, where I felt his erection growing.

“You need to learn your place.” He hissed into my ear, biting my earlobe hard enough to draw blood, as he forced my hips back and forth across his lap.

“Please.” My hands grasped at his wrists, my heart rate speeding up. Another quick jolt of electricity ripped through my neck, and tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to get away from him. Another jolt of electricity, and I cried out in pain. Cornrows growled in sadistic satisfaction, grinding against my body even harder.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed. The air felt like it grew a little colder and everyone in the room seemed to grow a little tenser. I could see a few of the men in the room turning their heads to seek out the source of the shift. I could feel blood pounding in my ears as I fought even harder while he was distracted, nearly slipping away from him only for him to grab me by the hair and deliver a stinging blow to my face and head, followed by an even more intense shock from the collar that nearly caused me to black out.

All of the attention in the bar seemed to be turned toward the door, where a tall, dark shadow stood, entering the bar, a cloud of smoke wafting around his muscular physique. His body was tense, muscles flexed in a deep black suit, hair pulled back neatly. I could feel his eyes on me as I struggled to get off of the floor, and I raised my eyes to meet his. Two heated pools of gold met my own brown eyes, and for the first time since knowing him, I felt absolutely terrified of him. Unrestrained rage filled his eyes even though his face was little more than a passive stare. 

***

Tora’s eyes focused on Poppy the minute he walked into the bar. It was as if, by instinct, he just knew where she was. He could be in a completely crowded train station during rush hour, and he knew he would be able to find her whether she was speaking or silent. And he knew her voice. He could pick her voice out of millions. He knew everything about her except why she was so damned willing to charge headfirst into dangerous situations even after she had been warned and especially after she narrowly escaped a bad situation before.

But seeing Poppy in tears, trying to get out of this fucker’s lap, watching this man pull her by the hair and hit her across the face—it was enough for Tora to make a mental note that, by the time he was finished with anyone and everyone involved in taking her, this fucker would be last and he would take special pleasure in making sure he suffered the worst and the longest.

Tora knew heading straight over to them would raise red flags. He pulled his dismissive mask into place as best as he could, resisting the urge to run over and break every single one of those men in two. His eyes flicked around the room, as he reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes, tapping them on his palm before pulling one out and lighting it. That was when he spotted Yamamoto—what’s more, that was when Yamamoto spotted him. 

Yamamoto raised his glass slightly in greeting to Tora, as Tora nodded a greeting in his direction, heading over to the table. A few others sat around the table that Tora was vaguely familiar with, and as he approached a few men moved to stand and confront him, but Yamamoto grumbled,

“Please, gentlemen. He’s my guest.”

They sized Tora up one final time and then moved out of the way to allow Tora to sit down. 

“Candy. Bring Tora a drink.” Yamamoto called. Tora glanced sideways at Candy, who flushed a bright red at seeing him sitting at the table. Yamamoto laughed in response, saying,

“It seems like everyone you meet has a negative opinion of you.”

“‘S that so?” Tora flicked his cigarette into the ash tray, taking a quick drag before setting it down. He took the drink from in front of him. “Even you?”

Yamamoto laughed in response to that and Tora’s lips curved into a slight smile. Yamamoto knew that Tora was referring to the night he nearly destroyed Yamamoto’s son with a pool stick.

“I think that beating was overdue. I’m sure whatever he said or did warranted that type of reaction, but I have to wonder.” Yamamoto picked his drink up, seeming particularly interested in swirling the amber liquid inside of the glass. “What exactly he did say or do in order to deserve a permanent scar across his face?”

Tora felt a slight shift in the atmosphere, and he realized that something was off about Yamamoto. Tora finished off his drink and took another drag from his cigarette.

“Ya know I have a soft spot for my women.” Tora explained casually. “In his case, he was talking about taking my shiny new toy. We all know that it’s only fair if I get to play with my toys before he has a chance to.”

Tora tapped the last of the orange embers into the ash tray, and Yamamoto nodded.

“Yes.” Yamamoto agreed, seeming deep in thought. “Patience never has been his strong suit. Maybe getting a lesson from the tiger himself will help reinforce this lesson.”

Tora nodded, glancing over at Candy, who nodded at him and brought him another drink immediately. She placed the drink in his hands, her fingers lingering on his for just a moment too long.

“Well, I do have a bit of a surprise for you.” Yamamoto grinned, sitting back in his seat. His men glanced over in his direction for a moment, their interest peaked at the promise of a surprise. “You see, I have many resources at my disposal, and, well, I wouldn’t be a good father if I hadn’t looked into the situation between you and my son myself. I already knew it was over a woman, and I just couldn’t help myself. I had to know who this woman was that caused such a terrible rift between my son and the tiger himself.”

Tora leaned forward, his forearms on his knees, folding his hands together, listening intently. He did not like where this conversation was going.

“And then when I found out it was her—this little pudgy hamster of a girl who had created this rift. I mean, forgive me for saying so, Tora, but I just found it so...humorous.” Yamamoto grinned, taking a final swig of whiskey before another glass was placed down in front of him. “You have to understand. You’re a strapping young man. I’ve seen the way my girls look at you when you come into the club. I hear them talk about what the tiger is like behind closed doors, and they’re never dissatisfied. So, what was it that this Poppylan had that all of my other girls didn’t?”

She’s not a slut? Tora thought you himself, feeling his mouth form a thin line of impatience at this monologue that was going on. He wasn’t sure where Yamamoto was going with this, but he had had enough.

“And then I figured it out.” Yamamoto’s voice was dangerously quiet when he said this, and Tora met his eyes. Despite his cool exterior, Tora’s heart skipped a beat, a sickening feeling growing and spreading in the pit of his stomach. “You and Goliath were close once, weren’t you?”

Tora’s eyes bored into Yamamoto’s at the mention of Goliath’s name, and he was well aware that he was being played for a fool. Tora nodded slightly at the question.

“And this Poppy. Well, she stumbled on something she wasn’t supposed to see. Something you wanted for yourself.” Yamamoto snapped his fingers, and one of his men pulled a cigar out of his coat, lighting it for him. “It’s not nice to keep things for yourself, Tora. If you had just shared with us, we could’ve helped you find the notebook that much faster, but instead you wanted to do it your way—keep it quiet. Keep her out of the boogeyman’s lair.”

Yamamoto took a drag of his cigar.

“And look how well that turned out.” He growled, spreading his arms out to motion to the bar where they both were sitting. Tora was unsure of whether or not he should get up and start fighting or sit and listen. Conflicting emotions and thoughts began to run through his mind as Yamamoto put the pieces together for him.

“It’s admirable, really. I tried to keep my daughter away from this world as long as I could. I wanted to maintain her innocence while I could, but this world is like a virus. Once you’ve come into contact with her, you spread that disease.” Yamamoto glanced over at a young woman sitting at the bar, her long, straight inky black hair pulled into a tight ponytail, tracing down her black leather jacket. She regarded the bartender with remote interest, slipping him a note. 

“And when I heard exactly what was in that notebook—what sort of things she knew about Goliath, about us, about...you. I knew I couldn’t let her go. So, I brought her here to you, for you. No more lies or hiding.” He explained. Again he snapped his fingers, pointing with two fingers to where Poppy was still actively trying to escape the blows raining down on her from Yamamoto’s son.

Near the end of the bar, a few seats over from Yamamoto’s daughter, Tora saw a man with long, dark hair touch his ear, where instructions were given to him through his earpiece. He saw him nod and then head toward Poppy, and immediately, his stomach sank. He knew this man, and he knew him well. People around Ares Street called him the Night Watcher, and he was damned good at his job. He could track anyone, no matter where in the world they were, and he was lethal even without weapons at his disposal. 

Yamamoto followed Tora’s gaze and his grin widened even more.

“I see you know Akuma.” He purred. “Yes. He’s Poppy’s handler.”

Oh fuck. Tora watched as Akuma approached the group of men, his tall, thin frame practically floating across the floor. Upon seeing him coming, many people moved quickly to form a path for him, and seeing Yamamoto’s son and his men scatter like flies as he approached them was no different. He watched Akuma speak to Poppy for just a moment, helping her up off of the floor, and he held her by the upper arm, walking her over to Yamamoto’s group.

For a moment, Akuma’s eyes met Tora’s with a passive consideration, before he turned away, heading back to the end of the bar where he was sitting before. Tora watched Poppy sway slightly in front of him, fighting the urge to reach up and take her in his arms to protect her. Her hair was an unkempt mess from being pulled and manhandled, mascara running down her face, and her eyes were glazed over. Not only had she been beaten, but she had been drugged too. She regarded Tora with slight interest.

“Miss Poppy.” Yamamoto addressed her gleefully. “I believe you’ve met Tora before.”

Poppy nodded her head in an erratic fashion.

“Why don’t you greet him?” Yamamoto suggested. Out of the corner of his eye, Tora saw Akuma turn his head slightly to pay attention to Poppy’s movements. Poppy didn’t move for a moment despite Yamamoto’s command, and then Tora saw a green light flash on Poppy’s neck as she jumped and scrambled over toward Tora. Tora put his hands out to steady her, so she didn’t fall over him.

“Have a seat.” Tora invited her gently, guiding her to a seat next to him.

“No, no. No need to waste a seat on her. Have her sit in your lap.” Yamamoto smiled. He was clearly enjoying this. Tora swallowed hard, and gently pulled Poppy to sit on his lap, his hands folding around her body, not onto to keep her from falling off his lap and crashing into the floor, but also to keep her safe.

“There now.” Yamamoto said, taking another drag from his cigar. “As my gift to you, Tora, you may take Miss Poppy here home with you tonight.”

Just like that? Tora thought, his heart skipping a hopeful beat before realizing that something was going on. Immediately, his defenses fell into place.

“And what is it ya want in return for her?” Tora asked.

“Now, Tora,” Yamamoto chided him, “can’t a long-time business partner and ally offer one of his hardest working accomplices a reward for their hard work every now and then?”

Tora grumbled in assent.

“Then, best not waste any time.” Tora said, picking Poppy up and standing up at the same time. He hoped his haste to get her out of this bar and back to the safety of his arms, didn’t show through as he started toward the door. Yamamoto’s hand flew out as Tora passed him, catching Tora’s wrist.

“A word of caution.” Yamamoto purred. “If she isn’t back here in time for her shift tomorrow, Akuma has strict orders to track her down and kill her. Believe me when I say, it will be a long and painful death, and he won’t need the collar to find her.”

Tora took a moment to collect himself, before saying,

“I’ll have her back.”

“Good boy.” Yamamoto grinned, releasing Tora. Akuma stood from his spot at the bar, his gaze on Tora as he walked out the door. Then, he turned his gaze to Yamamoto, who shook his head. Without any other interaction between the two of them, Akuma sat back down, counting the little droplets of water on his whiskey glass.


	6. Never Again

It took everything that Tora had, every fiber of his being to resist the urge to run out of the bar with Poppy in his arms, drop her in his car, turn back around and slaughter everyone inside of Miracle, but he knew it would take more than just one of him to finish off an entire bar of thugs, criminals, and well-trained mercenaries. Although, with as enraged as Tora was right at that moment, he thought he had a pretty damned good chance of taking out most, if not all of them at once. 

But what good would all of that anger do if it meant he didn’t have Poppy?

Gingerly, Tora placed Poppy in the back seat of his car, touching her face and forehead, panic setting in as her eyes rolled around in her head, her skin feverish and flushed.

“Poppy.” Tora ran his fingers down her cheek tenderly, gently patting her cheek, trying to get her to wake up. Looking at her now, he wondered if he should take her to the hospital, but he knew if he took her to the hospital, it would raise too many questions, and he was certain they would hold her in the hospital overnight. He had already been warned that if he didn’t get her back by tomorrow night, Akuma would come for her, and Tora was well aware that there were far too many entrances and exits in a hospital to ensure that Akuma wouldn’t kill her. 

Not only that, but judging by Poppy’s state, he knew the police would get involved, making an even bigger mess for the two of them because the last thing the mafia wants is a narc or any semblance or situation that could be misconstrued as narcing. So, the hospital was out of the question. 

He would just have to take her home.

***

Tora rushed into the bathroom with an unconscious Poppy in his arms. He turned on the shower, running his hands under the icy water, praying she would regain consciousness. Reaching into his pocket, he produced the switchblade again, wasting no time in cutting off the shock collar on her neck. When the band for the shock collar broke, Tora realized that the prongs were shoved so deeply into her neck that the collar remained firmly attached to her. With two of his fingers, Tora gently took hold of the device, pulling it as carefully as he could until it released.

“Oh my god.” He breathed, looking at two deep gouges in her neck that had turned a shining, angry shade of red. He felt the same fury rising in his body again at the monsters who did this to her.

Gingerly, he lay her on the ground, tearing off his suit jacket, tie, and white shirt, scooping Poppy up in his arms and placing her in the tub, her head away from the shower water.

“Come on, Poppy.” Tora whispered through gritted teeth. He placed a cup under the shower head, waited for it to fill up, then gently poured it on her head, shielding her face from the water droplets, gently guiding the water down the back of her head. 

Tora looked down at the clothes she was wearing, considering the material. The leather might be making acting as a barrier, preventing the coolness of the water from bringing her temperature down, which had spiked in recent hours due to the drugs. With shaking hands, he took the zipper, pulling it down and pulling her tiny body out of the skin tight clothes she was wearing.

He took the cup again, gently filling it and pouring it on her arms, closer to her wrists and on the back of her neck to cool her body down faster. When Poppy didn’t stir, Tora felt a surge of anxiety, and, for the second time in less than 24 hours, Tora felt that same lump rise in his throat again, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes.

“Please don’t do this.” He cradled Poppy in his arms, pulling her body close to his bare chest, hands on the back of her head as he rocked her on the side of the bathtub. He found himself shooing his tears away, taking a deep breath again, and placing her once more under the cold water. The seconds felt like they must have been years as Tora watched Poppy’s face intently. Suddenly, Poppy’s eyes snapped open, and she fumbled out of the bathtub, falling over the side of the tub, and crawling backward into the corner of the bathroom.

“No, please!” Her voice was frantic, and she curled her knees up to her body, her gaze darting all around the bathroom in panic. Tora shot up from the side of the tub, holding his hands out in front of him.

“It’s me, Poppy!” He tried to make his voice sound reassuring, but in his state of panic and relief, it came across more abrasive than he meant for it to.

“No! I don’t know you! Please! Don’t touch me!” Poppy’s voice wavered, and she fell into a fit of sobs. “Don’t touch me!”

Tora kneeled down, approaching her the same way he would approach a terrified animal. 

“I’m not gonna touch you.” He told her, sitting down across the room from her, and waiting for her to come down off the high she was on. Watching Poppy fall apart and do it alone was one of the hardest things Tora had ever had to do. Seeing her shiver and recoil from him hurt him more than he thought that it ever would especially because she had been the only one who hadn’t run away from him and hadn’t been afraid of him when everyone else had.

It took her about an hour, but he saw the tension slowly start to melt from her body and the look of terror in her eyes slowly begin to fade away, leaving behind a tiny body that trembled in a mix of terror, withdrawal, and coldness. Tora licked his lips, running his hands through his hair, and gently said,

“Can I get you some tea? It might help warm—“

Before he could get any other words out, Poppy scrambled across the floor and flung herself into Tora’s arms, her body shivering as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Poppy.” Tora whispered, wrapping his arms around her and holding her closely against his chest. Tora felt hot tears running down his chest as Poppy let herself go again, and he rested his cheek on top of her head, saying nothing, gently petting her hair to soothe her as she cried. After all of the tears her tiny body could hold had been cried out, Poppy lay silently against Tora’s chest. He wasn’t sure if she had fallen asleep or if she was just silent, keeping her thoughts to herself, and he didn’t want to move to see for himself.

“Please don’t make me go back.” Her voice was barely over a whisper when she said it.

“Ah sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms a little tighter around her and kissed the top of her head. “You never have to see that place again.”

Poppy paused, seemingly deep in thought before she pulled away from him. She sat for a moment, looking into Tora’s eyes, and he wasn’t sure exactly what she was thinking. After a moment, she reached toward him with a shaking hand, resting her palm on his cheek, and he covered her tiny hand with his.

“But I do.” She sighed. “I have to go back.”

“That’s not happening.” Tora told her firmly. “I won’t let you.”

“And I won’t let you die.” Poppy’s voice was harsh and cutting. When had this little hamster become such a fighter? Tora was a little taken aback by her tone.

“Ya really have that little faith in me, Bobby?” Tora smiled, an impish glint in his eyes. “I’m not goin anywhere.”

“Tora,” Poppy started to argue, but Tora cut her off, getting on his knees as Poppy fell backward into her elbows.

“Listen to me, Poppylan.” He growled. “Yamamoto would have to raise all of the armies of hell to even have a chance at getting close to ya, and God himself would have to strike me down for Yamamoto to ever even get within arm’s reach of ya.”

Tora’s eyes darkened as all of the rage and anger he had been suppressing unleashed in a single moment.

“I will burn this city to the ground, and tear Yamamoto, his fucking son, and anyone else who gets in my way apart piece by piece, and believe me when I say, after what they did to you, I will enjoy every last fucking minute of it.” His heart was racing as he looked down at her, Poppy’s face flushing a deep shade of red. 

“Tora.” Poppy’s voice was breathless as Tora reached down, putting his hand on her heart.

“I will never let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Poppy couldn’t stop herself now. She reached up, tangling her fingers in his hair and crushed her lips onto his, crawling in his lap as she did so. Her kisses were like fire on his lips, and he relished every burn, one kiss pulling him further under than the other. He was afraid to touch her, conscious of hurting her or doing something she might not want, so he allowed her to take the lead.

She pulled her head back, allowing his lips to trace themselves over her throat, planting tender kisses along her jaw, past the two prong marks, a permanent reminder to him of his absolute failure, and he wrapped his hands in her hair, crushing her body to his, feeling like she could never be close enough. 

Poppy’s hands found their way across his chest, worshipping the work he had done to maintain his chiseled physique. She broke away from him for a moment, gently guiding him backward, so she could appreciate the dedication that he put into his abs. Tora shivered at her touch, not used to feeling this kind of fervor. 

Poppy leaned down, tracing the tattoos on his chest with her fingers, trailing more heated kisses across his chest and down his stomach. Her fingers traced the waistband of his dark pants, sliding beneath the waistband every so often as she gingerly undid the button and unzipped his pants.

“No.” Tora stopped her, realizing that there were certain items he didn’t want her to see in his pockets.

Poppy stopped, climbing off of Tora, waiting for him to elaborate. She took her hands off of his body, holding them up in the air, feeling a little embarrassed at the sudden rejection. 

Tora sat up quickly, taking her by the arm and pulling her back into his lap.

“Who said you could get off me?” He smirked, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well I thought that you didn’t want me to—“ Poppy paused, feeling mortified that she was even talking about sex with Tora.

“You bet ya cute little ass I want you to.” He pressed another kiss on her lips.

“Then why did you—“ Poppy trailed off.

“Poppy, I’m not going to fuck you on the floor like an animal the first time.” He blatantly explained.

“Oh.” Was all Poppy could manage to say, although she did consider saying, “But I want you to.”

Tora could sense the her unspoken thoughts because he smirked at her again, his eyes becoming hooded, and he added,

“But if ya jump me like that after tonight, I don’t care where we are. You’re mine.”

Poppy smiled at that, feeling heat pool into her stomach at the suggestion of him fucking her in public. Even though she wouldn’t admit it, she secretly liked it. 

Now that everything was out in the open and all the tension the two of them had been feeling was put aside, it felt so...freeing....especially knowing that he wanted her the way that she wanted him. Maybe even more. And for just tonight, maybe they could put everything that was going on aside. Maybe they didn’t have to think about living and dying and whether or not everything that had happened between the two of them was worth it.

If it meant that it brought Tora to her, Poppy supposed she would be willing to do it all again.

“So then...” Poppy started to say. Tora looked down at her, scooping her up and taking her into his bedroom.


	7. New Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: NSFW
> 
> There is a very lengthy sex scene at the beginning of this chapter. If that’s not your thing, you may want to skip this chapter.
> 
> This chapter also contains a brief scene of non-consensual sex.
> 
> OTHER NOTES:  
> When I wrote the first part of this chapter, the smutty scene, I was listening to “Xerces” by Deftones. I highly recommend it if you’re looking for a soundtrack to the scene.
> 
> Enjoy!

I had never felt this way before about anyone—this raw, primal need to be as close to someone as I possibly could—to claim him. I could feel a strange tension between the two of us that I had never felt before as Tora set me down on the bed like I was made of glass. He stood back, a faint shadow crossing over his face, his gold eyes burning, hooded.

“What’s wrong?” My voice sounded a lot breathier than I had meant for it to. Tora’s mouth curved into a half smile, and he shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. An awkward moment passed between us, and I scooted to the edge of the bed. 

In all my fantasies about Tora, I had always imagined him being the rough sex type. The type that would throw caution to the wind, rip my clothes off and just fuck me, but this Tora was different. He almost seemed uncertain.

“If you don’t want to...do it...” I took a deep breath, trying to convince him that it was fine, even if it really wasn’t for me. He was all talk in the bathroom: Mr. I’ll-Take-Ya-Anytime-Any-Place, but when it comes down to business—well, when it comes down to it...

He stared at me for a minute longer and then pushed himself off of the doorframe, getting down on his knees in front of me, so he was eye level.

“I don’t wanna hurt ya.” He told me, reaching up and brushing his thumb across my cheek.

“Let me worry about that.” I told him, taking him by his arms and guiding him up onto the bed. I pressed him down against the pillows, climbing on top of his body and resuming where I left off—trailing heated kisses down his body. Tora tensed for a moment, his muscles contracting as I ran my tongue over his stomach, heading down toward his pants. The way his body reacted to me made me feel this sense of possession, of power and prowess—I was making him feel like this. I had the power to do this to him: his fingers digging into my thighs when I bit him softly on his lower lip; his mouth following mine, needing more than what I was giving him because it would never be enough; the way his muscles flexed when I tracked kisses down his neck, nibbling on his ear, suckling gently on him; to feel him shiver when I ran my tongue along his chest, enjoying the sight of his tattoos, the sound of his breath catching, and sudden jerks of pleasure; the taste of him, a mixture of sweat and musk from his cologne, blowing on him softly to see the sensation of goosebumps on his body; to make him groan when I moved my fingers along the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning them.

“Poppy.” The way he said my name set my body on fire once again. I slid my hand along his rigid hardness, a little intimidated at his length and girth, but so aroused all at the same time. I wanted to feel him— to know him.

For Tora, I must’ve been going far too slow, because I heard him grumble, 

“Fuck it.”

And in one quick motion, he sat up, startling me, took my face in his hands, and this time, the way his mouth moved against mine was merciless. His hands pulled my head forward, guiding my mouth against his before he pulled away, trailing down my neck and over my shoulders, pulling my bra straps down, following the curve of my back to the latch on my bra. With one hand, he unhooked my bra, like the pro he must’ve been, and that useless garment fell away. His hands cupped my breasts, kneading my nipples, and my head fell back, a half sob of pleasure escaping my lips as his mouth made its way to my nipples, suckling on them. His rough palms moved over my thighs and around the back of my body, cupping my butt and softly grinding me against him. 

“Let’s get these off.” He whispered in my ear, pulling at the elastic of my panties and letting them snap back into place. I nodded, starting to get up again when Tora grabbed my body, pulling me against him and put me down on my back. With his hands, he yanked my panties off and they flung across the room, discarded. He wasted no time, standing and pulling his pants off, before turning around and letting me see him in his full beauty.

If I told you that he was just another naked man, I would be lying. He was beautiful and everything I had ever fantasized about and more. 

“In the side drawer.” He told me, stroking himself as he did. For a moment, I felt dumbfounded, hearing the words, but then not fully registering them. Finally, their meaning snapped into place and I scrambled up, opening the side drawer. I could feel Tora’s eyes on me as I moved to find the condom, my shaking hands reaching for the handle of the drawer, sliding it open, and the first thing that I found was a pistol. I felt his body behind me, stinging hot flesh on my skin as he took my hand, and guided it to the pistol’s handle, taking it, and putting it gently on the bedside table. I looked over my shoulder and met his eyes.

“Does it scare you?” He whispered, gently nibbling in my shoulder. I answered honestly,

“No.”

Breathy. Damn it. He smirked at my voice, his fingers moving down my body, his hands stroking me gently.

“Do I—scare you?” He asked me, picking up speed as he did so, his hands moving quickly over my clit as I felt my body start to tremble. 

“Not anymore.” I moaned. He stopped, moving his hands back up toward mine as he guided my hand once again to the little foil package that had been my original target.

“Good.” He said. He handed me the foil package, and I tore it open with my teeth, handing the condom over to him. He smirked again, shaking his head, and leaned back, inviting me to put the condom on for him, and I happily obliged.

Something about Tora that I hadn’t expected was the intensity of his gaze as he watched every move I made. It was almost as if he was afraid he would miss something if he took his eyes off of me—almost like I was afraid that I would miss something if I took my eyes off of him. I positioned myself on top of him, and he put his hand on my cheek, pulling my forehead to his as I eased him inside of me. He exhaled sharply as I sank down on him, taking every inch of him before slowly rising off of him, coming back down, and settling into a steady pace.

“Fuck—Poppy.” He pulled me into him, lips everywhere on my body, appreciating the curve of my neck until he couldn’t take not being in control anymore. He lifted me up, his lips crashing into mine as we stumbled into the balcony sliding door. Normally, I would be self-conscious of all the people seeing my body or catching us in the act, but feeling his hands on my body, the way that he held me, making me feel like I was in the safest possible place—I didn’t even care if the whole world saw us. Let them. I wanted them all to know he was mine.

I tangled my hands in his hair as he grabbed a hold of his dick, positioning himself and slamming into me, hands holding me by my thighs, and oh god the pleasure was almost excruciating. My fingers stopped, feeling the tie in his hair, pulling it out and seeing the little strawberry barrette—I almost wanted to cry seeing that he had kept it, but I didn’t have much time to consider it further because he slammed into me over and over again, each thrust taking me a little higher than the last as he let out a primal growl, his hair falling over his shoulders, surrounding me in a curtain of cigarette smoke, alcohol, and the smell of his body—that same musk and sweat.

“Oh—my—“ the words escaped my mouth without my permission, and he chuckled a little at them, taking special pleasure in knowing it was because of him that they even came out of my mouth in the first place.

My body reacted in a way I hadn’t expected so quickly as I felt myself start to quiver and tighten against him, when suddenly he stopped. I let out a frustrated cry of dismay at him, and he pulled me forward, biting my lip, his voice husky, as he growled,

“Not without me.”

He pulled out of me suddenly, and I moaned in both pleasure and exasperation. My hands released and the strawberry barrette started to fall to the floor. Tora’s hand shot out, grabbing it, and he said,

“Let’s not lose this.”

We didn’t make it back to the bed before I found myself on the floor on my hands and knees. Tora grabbed my hips, thrusting back into me, his hands grabbing a hold of my hair, pulling my head back as he slammed into be over and over again. I heard his breathing start to intensify, and he let out a loud moan of pent up aggression and satisfaction as his pacing became erratic. He let go of my hair, his fingers digging into my skin, as a groan of pleasure escaped his lips. He was close to climaxing, and I knew it.

This time, it was me who stopped, pulling away from him, and Tora seemed shocked at this. My lips spread into a mischievous grin, and I looked over my shoulder at him, my voice seductively low, purring,

“Nope. Not without me.”

Tora laughed, a deep, sexy melody as i turned over on my back, watching him crawl toward me.

“Besides,” I sighed, my fingers playing with a lock of his hair, “I want to see you.” 

His eyes darkened, sheer craving clouding over them as his mouth crashed into mine, my hands reaching out, stroking him, guiding him back inside of me.

“F—fuck, Poppy.” His voice was strained, and I felt the pace begin to pick up once again. I moved my hips in tandem with him, fucking him just as much as he was fucking me, and I felt my body building up to an extraordinary release.

“Oh—oh my god.” I breathed, sitting up, my hips bucking hard and fast as he fucked me. It felt like a thousand dams burst inside of me all at once as the sensation of a climax washed over my body. I threw my head back, reveling in the intensity and satisfaction of it, my fingernails digging hard into the skin on Tora’s back, and that was enough to send Tora over the edge with a simple,

“F—fuck.”

Together, we were a mess of sweat and emotions coming completely unwound as he thrust two more times before stopping, our breathing fast and hard. His hair fell in gentle tendrils over his shoulder, sticking to the sweat on my chest. 

Tora gently guided himself out of and off of me, pulling his hair back and fastening it with the strawberry barrette.

“You don’t have to keep that.” I told him. “I have plenty of other ones that don’t have strawberries on them and that are less girly.”

Tora looked over his shoulder at me and grinned,

“I happen to like strawberries.”

He laid back down next to me, propping his head up on his hand and looking right at me as he continued,

“Plus, you gave it me. Why wouldn’t I want to keep it?”

And I felt my heart flutter and melt in my body all at once.

***

As exhausted as he was, Tora was finding sleep impossible. His mind was racing. He had promised Poppy would never have to go back again, and he had intended to keep that promise. But he was well aware that meant going to war with Yamamoto and, even worse, Akuma.

Tora rolled over on his side, his eyes falling on Poppy as she slept. A faint silvery blue light filled Tora’s bedroom, bathing Poppy’s skin in a mesmerizing incandescence. He moved his body closer to her, and she sighed peacefully in her sleep. Now that he had had her, he felt especially possessive of her. For a moment, he considered what it would be like if she did go back. He knew what those places were like. He had been a patron of Miracle before and knew how the girls there were forced to make extra money.

He imagined Poppy, drugged again on her hands and knees as she had been in front of him, unable to keep her head up. He saw cornrows stroking his dick as he stared at her, planning on fucking her simply to spite Tora because Tora had made the mistake of letting him know that he cared about her. He watched him in this sick daydream, as he entered her body, in that sacred space that was meant only for him and he took what wasn’t his without her consent.

Tora felt that anger overcoming him again as he closed his eyes, trying to will those images away, trying not to think of his sputtering breath and his hands on her fucking body, disrespecting her that way, hurting her that way. 

The way that he felt protective over her—like he knew he would do anything to keep her safe. He would kill for her. He would die for her. He reached out, the back of his fingers tracing her face, thumb tracing her lips, swollen from overuse, and he knew that he loved her.

“Ah, fuck.” Tora grumbled to himself at this realization. No good ever came from loving someone in his line of work. There was too much collateral damage, and she would always have a target on her back.

But...

But...

Tora also considered himself a selfish man. Unless Poppy told him specifically that she didn’t want to see him again, he had no plans of walking away from her, and even if she did, well, he would just find a way back into her life again. Yes, he loved her, and that meant that in return he belonged to her.

Tora leaned forward, kissing Poppy on her forehead, and got out of bed, shrugging a pair of jeans and a Henley on. He crept over to the nightstand, a flash of him guiding her hand to pull the pistol out and put it on the nightstand temporarily arousing him again as he picked up the gun, checked the clip, and put it in the back of his jeans. Then, he grabbed his phone and a black cap. Tora took one last look at Poppy, his heart skipping a beat once more before heading out the door to his car.

Tora dialed Ronzo’s number, and it rang only once before he picked up,

“She safe?”

“No.” Tora grumbled, pulling a cigarette out of the center console of the car and lighting it. “But she’s with me.”

“I’d say she’s safe then.” Ronzo pressed, seeming pretty pleased with his detective work. Tora imagined him leaning back in his chair, slouching and grinning.

“Akuma is her handler.” Tora took a drag of his cigarette, unlocking his car and sitting down. He adjusted his rear view mirror, his eyes catching sight of the back seat, an image of an unconscious Poppy searing through his mind.

“I take that back.” Ronzo sighed. “So then, what are you thinking?”

“I make a deal.” Tora mumbled. Tora heard Ronzo sit forward.

“What sort of deal?” He pressed.

“My services for Poppy.” It seemed simple enough, but the fallout was going to be a bitch.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, big boss. Trading alliances like that? Without even explaining the situation to Vincent? I’m sure he’s got plenty of resources to help.” Ronzo explained.

“It ain’t his business.” Tora looked out the window, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“It fucking well is his business! You’re employed by him, and he helped get you where you are. The fuck is this ‘not his business’ bullshit? You’re going to dig yourself a grave.” Ronzo ranted. Tora felt his defenses fly up at Ronzo’s comments.

“I didn’t ask for ya opinion. I told ya what I’m doing.” Tora seethed.

“And I’m telling you that you’re an idiot for doing that.” Ronzo pushed back. “What is it with this bitch? Does she have a magic pussy or something?”

“Say something like that about her again, and I’ll rip ya tongue out of your head.” Tora barked sharply over the phone. Ronzo fell silent for a second, seemingly understanding that he had overstepped his bounds. It seconds of silence ticked by before Ronzo finally spoke one more time,

“Call Vincent, or I will.”

And the line went dead. Tora knew Ronzo was right. He also knew that he shouldn’t have lost his temper with Ronzo, but it was too little too late for that. He let out a long, frustrated sigh, finishing off his cigarette, before putting it out in the ash tray. With a quick, exasperated sigh, he punched the steering wheel and shouted,

“FUCK!”

After taking a few moments to calm down and a few more well placed punches to the steering wheel, Tora picked up his cell phone, flipping through his contacts. Now was the time he needed to make a choice: he could either dial Vincent’s number and risk the deal going south, in which case, he would have to go against him anyway...or he could call Yamamoto and deal with it alone, avoiding the possibility of Vincent barring him from being able to help Poppy and maybe even keeping Vincent from knowing in the first place.

Tora considered for a moment longer, solidifying his decision before he dialed the chosen number. It rang a few times before the line was silent, indicating someone was listening.

“It’s Tora.” Tora started. “I got a deal for you.”


	8. The Deal

Vincent wasn’t really one for wheeling and dealing with his employees. He was a straight shooter. He knew what he wanted, and he knew what he expected from you. Outside of those lines, personal matters were of little significance to him. Besides that, Tora was not one for asking permission, much less for notification, but this time things were a little different. This time, he had more than himself to worry about, which put a kink into that no-fucks-given lifestyle.

“You have a deal for me?” Vincent sounded amused at these words, and Tora felt like a child again, bearing the weight of Vincent’s paternal disapproval.

“I’m—in a bad situation.” Tora felt like just getting straight to it was the best way to go.

“Does this have anything to do with the girl who showed up at my Quincey boy’s apartment?” Vincent inquired. Tora should’ve known something like that wouldn’t stay secret for long. Quincey wasn’t one to really stay calm about things, and he did have a loud mouth.

“Yeah.” Tora assented simply. Vincent made a sound of consideration before he said,

“Go on.”

“Yamamoto’s men heard talk that she had a notebook that belonged to Goliath. Not sure which of our men let that slip, but I’ll deal with them later.” Tora ran his fingers though his hair. “They took her. Made her do things she didn’t want to do. She didn’t have nothing to do with that notebook.”

“Yamamoto takes girls off the streets all the time. What does this have to do with you?” He pressed. Tora was quiet, unsure of how to put it. His consideration and silence was obviously enough for Vincent to get the gist.

“Someone finally tamed the tiger.” Tora could hear a smile in his voice, and it irritated him to think that Vincent probably considered this a weakness. “My sources tell me you left Miracle with her. What’s the problem?”

“He wants her back.” Tora’s voice had a little more of a bite to it than he had intended. “And he made Akuma her handler.”

“He knew this would happen. He’s trapped you.” Tora heard the gentle squeak of Vincent leaning back in his chair. Tora grumbled in agreement, well aware that he had been played for a fool.

“Seems to me the only logical solution here is for you to take her to Yamamoto and don’t look back.” Vincent said it so smoothly that Tora almost missed it. 

“That’s not happening.” Tora growled. Vincent scoffed over the phone.

“That wasn’t a suggestion.” The way Vincent accentuated every syllable warned Tora that he was losing his patience.

“Look. I’m calling ya because I respect ya enough to tell ya what’s going on and why.” Tora didn’t like having to do this. Vincent had been good to him, and he had never had any bad blood toward Vincent, and even now if Vincent chose to turn on Tora and go after him, he would understand. Business was business and Tora wasn’t holding up his end of the deal. Not only that, but these were guys Tora had been working with since he was a kid. It would hurt him to put them down, but if he had to do it, he would.

“If you do this, you understand that you can’t come back. Any ties between us are severed, and you are considered an outsider to us.” Vincent’s voice was dead serious. Tora looked down at his hands, a numb feeling washing over him. 

“Yeah. I get it.” Tora sighed. The line was quiet, and a tension passed between the two of them.

“Tell me what your plan was.” Vincent’s voice was quiet.

“I offer to do a job for Yamamoto.” Tora explained.

“You’re playing with fire. You know this isn’t going to be a simple one and done sort of situation.” Vincent explained.

“I know.” Tora said. Vincent scoffed again, and Tora heard him get out of his chair. He imagined him pacing around his office in frustration as he spoke to Tora, and again, it made Tora feel like a child.

“Is she really worth your life, Tora?” Vincent asked, still seeming to be in disbelief at the whole situation.

“She’s worth everything.” Tora looked out the window to the house he was staying in, glancing at the bedroom window where Poppy slept.

“If that’s the case,” Vincent pressed, and Tora braced for bad news, “then I’m going to consider her an extension of you.”

“Meaning?” Tora felt the edge in his voice.

“Meaning if you want to do this and still remain with the Balthuman organization, then she has to join too. And when I say she has to be a part of it, I mean she must go through the entire initiation process.” Vincent explained, and Tora immediately sat forward, going for the jugular,

“Like fuck she will.”

“I’m not here to negotiate. I’ve made my terms clear. You want to stay, use our resources as you’re completing your supposed little one and done with Yamamoto, she joins. I play civil with Yamamoto, and I help you get her out of the sex trafficking scene, which you and I both know she will be a part of if I don’t extend my hand further.” Vincent explained. “You leave and join Yamamoto, and I will take every step necessary to inflict severe punishment on you for your betrayal to this organization.”

Tora sat back, blindsided by the sudden change in pacing. He had to give it to Vincent. He knew exactly when to strike in order to wound him.

“And hear me when I say this, Tora. There is nothing that I won’t do or allow in order to make sure that we pull you back into this organization willingly. Everything in your life becomes fair game, including Poppylan.” Vincent explained. Tora’s body tensed with an onslaught of rage at hearing him say her name like that. “I’ve told you once, and I’ll tell you again, once you’re in, there is no getting out. You are the best that we have, and I don’t intend to let you go without one hell of a fight, and if I have to take your girl down with me, I will. It’s all business.”

“All business.” Tora repeated, restraining his anger. In reality, He wasn’t surprised at this turn of events. Vincent had played his cards well, and he dangled a hell of a deal in front of Tora. The issue at hand was explaining to Poppy who he was and what he really did. He was a murderer, and nothing scared him more than telling Poppy the full truth, pulling off the mask, and watching her reject him, or worse—making her afraid of him.

“I’m glad you understand.” Vincent purred pleasantly, the badass boss switch seemingly flipped off. “I understand you have a time constraint before you return Miss Poppylan to Miracle. I’ll call that the deadline for your decision.”

“I’ll be in touch.” Tora grumbled, and the line went dead. Tora leaned his head back against the car seat, closing his eyes for a moment. Was he ready to tell her the truth? Or what’s more, was he willing to drag her into this lifestyle too? Poppy wasn’t a killer. He wasn’t even sure she could hold a gun, much less fire it at someone even if her own life was at stake.

Tora opened his eyes, and a slight movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A dark figure was slowly walking by his house. Tora’s senses kicked into high gear as he calmly got out of his car. The figure stopped just in front of the entrance to the house Tora was staying in, turning toward Tora.

“What the fuck are ya doing here?” Tora gripped the handle of his pistol, pulling it out, taking the safety off and pointing it at the unwelcome guest.

“Mr. Yamamoto sends his regards.” The soft voice of Akuma said from beneath a black hood, his hands shoved in the front pockets of the hoodie, producing a business card and holding it out to Tora. “He hopes you are enjoying your time with Miss Poppylan.”

Tora lowered his weapon, taking the card, not taking his eyes off of Akuma. 

“And I am here to make sure that the girl is alive, well, and....present.” Akuma explained. “It appears she is all of those things.”

Tora nodded.

“Mr. Yamamoto looks forward to seeing you and Miss Poppylan again this evening at eight o’clock.” Akuma said. “Punctuality is key. Any later will result in severe consequences for the girl.”

Akuma bowed slightly to Tora, then turned and walked away from him, disappearing into the shadows just as quickly as he had appeared. Tora glanced down at the card, seeing Yamamoto’s direct line listed on it, before putting it in his jeans pocket.

He headed back inside of the house to find Poppy awake, putting the leather clothes back on that Tora had stripped her of.

“And where are you going?” Tora sounded a little more irritated than he had meant to, but to be fair, it had been a long night. Poppy’s brows furrowed in annoyance as she bit back,

“I didn’t realize I needed your permission to get dressed.”

“Ya don’t.” Tora sighed, the tension and irritation replaced by humor at her frustration. He shut the door, taking out his cell phone and pistol, passing Poppy briefly, and placing them on the side table. Poppy watched him intently as he did these things, and he could tell she had questions. He turned toward Poppy, who drew back a little, tripping over herself and landing on the bed. Tora crossed his arms, amused at the scene, and leaned against the wall.

“Go ahead and ask.” He said.

“Ask—what? I—you—uh—nothing.” Poppy stammered, a little panicked at being out on the spot.

“Okay, let me clear a few things up for ya.” Tora smiled, squatting down in front of her. It was going to have to come out now. There was no choice. “I’m part of a group called the Balthuman group. It’s not the most—legal organization.”

Tora gauged Poppy’s response so far, and she stared at him blankly. He supposed he would take her lack of response as a good thing, and he continued,

“They hired me to watch out for Vincent, the boss, and his boy, Quincey. You can think of us as—“

Tora waved his hand in the air, trying to figure out the right words to say.

“Criminals?” Poppy suggested blatantly, catching him off guard. 

“I mean—yeah.” Tora said slowly.

“Yeah. I know.” Poppy’s brows furrowed again, looking at Tora like he had lost his mind.

“Ya know?” Tora arched his eyebrow in suspicion. He wasn’t sure she was fully understanding the extent of his job and what he really did. Poppy looked away from him uncomfortably, finding it hard to look into his eyes.

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know you’re a thug, Tora.” Poppy shrugged dismissively. “Anyone with two eyes could see that.”

Ouch. That stung a little, but he had made a living off of fear and intimidation, and he was good at it.

“Fair enough.” Tora said. This was going better than he had expected.

“Does that mean—you...you...k—kill people?” Poppy finally found the courage to ask. Tora felt his heart sink, and this was the moment he was worried about. The moment she would see him differently for what he did. The moment she would recoil from him in fear and run away from him.

“Yeah.” Tora decided telling the truth was the best route, but that didn’t mean he had to elaborate unless she asked him to. He saw a flurry of emotions cross Poppy’s face, and he was unsure of what she was thinking or feeling.

“Like—“ Poppy swallowed, gathering herself again. “Like a lot of people?”

“Yeah.” Tora said again. He wanted to reach out and grab her hands, telling her he wouldn’t ever do that to her, but he worried about how she would react. Would she pull away from him? Would she feel disgusted by him?  
Would she be afraid?

“Does it ever bother you?” Poppy inquired, her mind trying to process everything she was learning. 

“Not anymore.” He answered honestly. She nodded stiffly. Tora stood up, and Poppy jumped, and that alone was enough to make his heart break. She was afraid of him. He knew this would happen, but nothing prepared him for exactly how much seeing her react that way would sting.

“Look, Poppy.” He sighed, turning away from her. “I’ll take ya home and sit outside of ya apartment to make sure no one comes to bother ya. Once I get this whole mess with Yamamoto sorted out, I’ll get out of ya life. There’s no reason to be involved in this anymore than ya already are.”

Poppy sat, dumbstruck as Tora once again gathered his pistol and cell phone, digging in his pocket for his car keys. The last part of it had been a lie, but Tora figured she had been through enough for the past few days to last a lifetime. She could wait a little longer before finding out that she would have to trade her life in for a life of crime because of him.

“I don’t want you to drive me home.” Poppy sounded hurt and defensive at the same time, and Tora’s heart sank a little more.

“Alright. Ya don’t want to be around me anymore?” His tone bit with hurt and frustration. “Take my keys. Go home. I’ll be there, but ya won’t even know I’m there.”

Tora tossed the keys to Poppy, and they landed on the bed next to her. Poppy stared down at the keys, and Tora collected his things.

“For what it’s worth,” Tora said, pausing at the door. “You’re worth more than ya give yourself credit for. There’s a reason Yamamoto wanted ya, and it’s not because of me.”

From there, Tora pulled the door open and walked out of Poppy’s life.


	9. The Greater of Two Evils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:
> 
> There is a small bit of NSFW content in this chapter (although it’s not nearly as bad as the previous chapter.)
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me so far!
> 
> Enjoy!

Tora felt a thousand emotions going through him all at once as he slid that passive mask into place, trying to remember what his life had been like before Poppy. He hadn’t given a fuck about anything or anyone and then Poppy just came crashing into his fucking life.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, clenching his fists together as he put one foot in front of the other, heading toward Poppy’s apartment. Why the fuck did he even get involved with her? Why didn’t he just leave her alone? Why not just break into her apartment and take her bag and not even have to deal with her again?

Who the fuck was she to him anyway? Why did he even care? A flash of Poppy grabbing his shirt and pulling him toward her for a kiss seared across his mind, and his heart broke just a little bit.

She didn’t want him anymore? She was too good for him? He wasn’t innocent enough for her? Fine. Fucking fine. In a few days, he’d probably be over her anyway, right? Right?

It was a lie, and he knew it. There was no getting over her.

Tora put his head down, picking up his pace, blood pounding in his ears. He felt his frustration getting the better of him, and he turned suddenly, punching a wall to release some of that frustration.

Fucking seriously? He couldn’t even fucking drive her home? He knew this would happen. He knew it. But what choice did he have?

He growled, feeling irritated with himself for even hoping she would feel differently. He was a monster, a murder. Why would someone like her ever want to be with someone like him? It was doomed to fail from the start.

If he hadn’t been so hyper aware and irritated at everything around him, he wouldn’t have heard the running footsteps heading his way.

Tora pulled his pistol out, clicked the safety off, and whirled around all at once, his pistol clicking soundly against the forehead of a short little hamster.

“P—Poppy!” He exclaimed, quickly pulling the gun away from her forehead, and, without thinking, touching her forehead, and looking closely at it to make sure he hadn’t hurt her. “The fuck are ya thinking running up on me like that? You got a death wish or something?”

“I’ve been yelling your name for the last few minutes!” Poppy was out of breath, flustered by him as she smacked his hand out of the way, and swatted at him. “Honestly, Tora, are you deaf?”

“Go back to the apartment, Poppy. ‘S no reason for you to be here.” Tora’s voice was cold, distant, and Poppy could feel that stone wall slipping into place between the two of them. Tora flipped the safety back on, returning the gun to its place.

“N—no.” She sounded uncertain, but remembered what her father had said: be direct, look them in the eye, tell them what you want. Tora put his hands on his hips, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips as he whirled around on her, going toe to toe with her.

“What do you want?” Hadn’t she done enough? Was she here to rub it in his face? For fucks sake!

“Why are you acting this way?” She pressed, leaning forward to seem more assertive. Tora smiled at her, cold and uncompromising, a dry chuckle rumbling through his body.

“You tell me, Poppy. Why am I acting this way?” He pushed back at her. “Look, I’m just trying to get to ya apartment so I can make sure the coast is clear. Don’t worry, I don’t plan on staying.”

“Unless you want me to.” God damn that voice in his head. He glared at Poppy, turning on his heel away from her, and kept right on walking. He heard her footsteps scurrying to keep up with him. 

“Why did you leave like that?” Poppy demanded. “Why do you keep walking away from me?”

“Why?” Tora all but shouted, torrents of frustration and pain streaming through his voice as he whirled on her again. Poppy unwillingly took a step back in shock, but remembered her place, planting her feet firmly at looking him dead in his eyes. 

“Come on, Poppy! It was pretty clear how ya felt about what I said. Why did I need to hang around?” Tora growled. 

“You idiot!” Poppy huffed, throwing her hands at his chest and giving him a little shove, though for Tora it felt like a tiny baby fist caressing his chest. Tora raised his eyebrows in surprise at her outburst. This little hamster and her magical reappearing balls of steel never failed to amaze him. 

“I was in shock!” She cried. “You didn’t give me any time to react!”

“So what, then? Did ya just want to say it to my face? Is that it? No need, Poppylan. I hear you loud and clear.” Tora turned around with a wave over his shoulder, and continued walking, only to have Poppy grab his arm and yank him backward.

“Will you just wait a second and listen to me?” Poppy all but yelled in exasperation, her voice wavering a little. Tora sighed, turning toward her, and crossing his arms.

“Ya have my full attention.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“I already knew those things about you—or at least I suspected them. Hearing them tonight, it just caught me off guard. You said it so suddenly and out of nowhere. I wasn’t ready.” Poppy explained.

“No one’s ever ready to hear something like that.” Tora sighed. “That’s why I didn’t push it. I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.” Poppy pushed back. 

“No, I do , alright?” Tora cut her off, much to Poppy’s continued frustration. “I’m a monster, right? You can’t see yaself with someone like me because of what I do.”

He started pacing around her.

“Yeah, ya face said the words for you. I’m a murderer. I kill people for a living, brutalize them, and I don’t even think twice.” He told her, whispering into her ear. “I go home after spilling blood, tearing off jaws, breaking bones, and I sleep just fine. In fact, I sleep like a baby.”

“You’re just trying to scare me.” Poppy knew it, but it still didn’t keep her from feeling uneasy seeing this side of him.

“No, sweetheart. This is who I really am. I am all the terrible things they say about me. You just didn’t want to believe it. Take a good, hard look at me. This is what you signed up for. This is who you fucked.” He walked toward her briskly, stopping just in front of her.

“Listen well because I’m only going to say this once.” Poppy was done with his bullshit. “I don’t care about your job, and I won’t ask you for the details of your day because, frankly, I don’t want to know about them.”

Poppy took his hand, the one he had punched the wall with, and brought it to her cheek. Tora started to protest for a moment, but one sharp glance from Poppy silenced him.

“I’m not afraid of you, Tora.” She explained. “In fact, every time I think of you, all I can think of is the guy who caught me from that tree. The guy who helped me catch up to Mr. Lam. The one who held my hand on my balcony and asked me what it felt like to hold his hand.”

Tora felt like he was in a dream listening to Poppy speak to him this way.

“You want to know what I feel when you touch me?” She pressed his hand to her heart. “I feel like there’s nobody else that I want to touch ever again, and I’ll be damned if I watch somebody else touch you. I feel like every time I see you I just want to—to...”

Poppy was having a hard time saying the words because they were so foreign to her.

“I want to fuck you. But even more. When you touch me, I just feel like...like...” Poppy waved her hands around searching for the right words, before finally settling on them.

“Like I love you, alright?” She told him, and Tora’s eyes went wide at that admission. “That’s right. I said it. I love you, Tora. And there’s nothing you could ever do or say to make me look at you differently or to change the way I feel about you.”

Tora was stunned. His arms dropped to his sides, and he felt that flame in his soul reignite again. 

“So go ahead and keep walking away from me.” Poppy said. “But do it because you want to, not because you think I want you to.”

Tora was having a hard time registering everything she had just said, but the tension between them and the strained silence told him that it wasn’t all just in his head. She had really said it. She had told him she loved him even after he had just acted like the biggest ass in the world in front of her. Ever after her had told her the messy details and tried to scare her away. Even after she knew who he really was, and she still loved him.

“Ah fuck.” He grumbled. Tora put his hands on her face, that impassive mask slipping out of place again as he looked down at those bright brown eyes of hers. He pulled her in, kissing her hard, before scooping her up in his arms, and throwing her over his shoulder. 

“Put me down.” Poppy grumbled, squirming against him.

“Nah.” Tora grinned, slapping her butt. “Ya legs are too short. We’ll never get home before dawn at that rate.”

“Oh ha ha.” Poppy spat over her shoulder at him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “We don’t have anyplace we need to be anyway.”

“Maybe you don’t.” Tora growled. “But I’m starting to forget what ya look like underneath that cat suit. I could use a reminder.”

***

Tora glanced over toward the bathroom as Poppy scooted quietly out of bed, thinking he was asleep. He rolled over, putting his head on his hand, watching her turn on the shower, running her fingers under it to test the temperature. A searing thought of her fingers on his chest and wrapped in his hair as they had just been tore through his mind, an uninvited but very welcome thought.

He watched Poppy as she turned back around, looking at herself in the mirror, and running her fingers through her hair to tame it, now mussed up again in the afterglow of another vigorous sexual encounter. She leaned forward, glancing into the mirror and her mouth fell open in shock as she touched her neck in a panic, looking at a well placed mark he had left on her, just above her collar where she wouldn’t be able to hide it without makeup, and even then, it was pretty dark. 

Tora’s mouth curved into a devious smile, thinking of his hands in her hair, Poppy’s body against his as he drove into her from behind, pulled her head back by her hair at the peak of her climax, biting at her neck to leave that mark as a reminder for her and a warning for anyone else who happened to be thinking of getting in her pants.

“Oh man.” He heard Poppy whimper, splashing water on the mark and rubbing at it to no avail. She sighed, and then returned the the shower, running her fingers under the water again, adjusting the temperature one last time, and stepping into the shower, closing the curtain. He heard a sigh of relief from her as the warm water hit her body. 

Tora pulled the blankets back, heading quietly into the bathroom, and stepped into the shower behind her.

“Enjoying yaself?” He purred, wrapping his arms around her. Poppy jumped with a shriek, and then shot him a dirty look over her shoulder.

“Well, I WAS!” She growled at him. Tora reached up and pinched her cheek,

“You’re cute when ya mad.”

Tora watched the anger melt away from her face, replaced with a humorous smirk. He felt himself grow hard looking at her face, suddenly becoming hyper aware of her wet body against his.

“You are insatiable. Seriously, Tora. We’ve already done...it...twice now.” Poppy sighed.

“Ya can say, ‘had sex.’” Tora smiled, and Poppy’s face flushed a bright red at the sound of that. “Or fucked if that’s ya—“

“Yeah, okay! I get it!” Poppy brushed him off, and Tora laughed a little at that.

“I dunno why you’re so embarrassed. You had no trouble saying that ya wanted to fuck me when you were professing ya love to me.” He teased. 

“Oh, get out of here, you big brute!” Poppy shoved him, slipping on the wet tub, as Tora caught her arm with one hand, lifting her back up, and cackling at her flustered reaction as she swatted him away.

“Look, I’m just here to take a shower.” Tora suggested innocently. “You just happened to be here in the same shower with me.”

Poppy threw a suspicious glance over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, is that so?” She huffed. Tora nodded. “Well. Then, I’d better go ahead and get out of your way. This shower is small enough without all six feet three inches of you hogging up all the space.”

“Now let’s not make rash decisions.” Tora wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug, pulling her back into the shower as she tried to make her escape. 

“Okay, okay.” Poppy laughed. “Enough manhandling for today.”

“If ya say so.” Tora shrugged, grabbing the soap and beginning to lather himself up. Poppy turned around to face him, and Tora froze, confused at the sudden attention. Poppy took the soap out of his hands, and placed her hands on his body, lathering the soap over his chest, her fingers tracing a scar on his shoulder she hadn’t noticed before.

“Knife.” Tora said, and she looked up at him questioningly as he studied her reaction. “Right across the shoulder. Got jumped on my way home from a job.”

Poppy continued lathering, exploring his body as she shimmied around the back. He looked over his shoulder as her fingers traced a scar on his back.

“Bullet wound.” Tora grumbled. “Thought the bastard was down, but he wasn’t. Clipped me in the trap.”

More lathering and she paused at each scar, Tora answering each unspoken question, telling her more about his life than he had ever told anyone. Tora pulled the strawberry barrette out of his hair, situating it on his wrist as his hair fell down over his shoulders. Poppy pulled his hair back behind him, reaching up high to smooth his hair back. They were silent for a moment, before Poppy quietly sighed,

“Tora, I may not be an expert on gang life, but I know enough to know that I’m not getting out of Yamamoto’s club for nothing.”

Tora’s body tensed, his mind trying to find the right words to say to explain what all of this meant.

“What was my price?” She asked, and it was a fair question. Tora’s hands dropped to his sides, and he looked over his shoulder at her for a moment, before turning away.

“Right now. There are two options.” He told her. “I take ya to Yamamoto and try to strike a deal with him, which he might refuse. If you’re there, things could get pretty bad, but that leaves my organization out of the loop.”

“And,” Poppy pressed hesitantly. “And if we get Balthuman involved?”

“Then they use force to protect you. My boss reaches out to negotiate with Yamamoto, and ya never see that place again.”

Poppy could tell there was more than what he was saying.

“But?” She whispered.

“But you have to join Balthuman.” His voice was cold, distant. Poppy looked up at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

“What exactly does that mean for me?” She asked.

“Ya go through an initiation process. It’s not easy, and I can’t get involved. Vincent looks at ya skills and decide what job would be best for ya. Once he decides, that’s it. There’s no changing his mind.” He told her.

“Okay.” Her voice was quiet as she processed all of this information.

“Poppy, you have to know. Once ya in, there’s no getting out. It’s not like a club ya just cancel your membership for and get out of. It’s forever, and it means doing things ya might not always be okay with doing.” He told her, turning around to face her, and gently guiding her eyes up to his as he explained this. Poppy nodded, listening intently to the sound of the shower. Tora could see her processing all of these thoughts in her head. He hadn’t intended on telling her the truth tonight, but Poppy was smart. She knew better than to assume all of this was free. 

“What did you tell them?” Poppy asked.

“‘S not my decision to make.” He shrugged. Poppy pressed her lips together, nodding as Tora moved a rogue strand of hair out of her face.

“Will—“ Poppy started, swallowing hard. “Will I have to kill someone?”

“Ya might.” Tora admitted gently.

“Will someone try to kill me?” Poppy asked.

“They might.” Tora again assented. Poppy nodded again, considering these words.

“But—if I stay with Yamamoto, someone might try to hurt me there too.” She was thinking aloud. “Would they teach me how to defend myself? Or—or how to kill?”

“Balthuman?” Tora clarified. “If they didn’t, I would.”

Poppy could see a hint of sympathy in Tora’s eyes as he waited, letting her consider both of her terrible options. Only she could decide which was the greater evil.

“Then,” Poppy swallowed. “Then, I’ll join.”


	10. The Deal (Part 2)

Tora ran a towel over his hair, ruffling the water out of it before hanging the towel around his bare shoulders. Poppy sat next to him on the bed, her hair pulled up into a hasty bun, one of Tora’s shirts hanging loosely on her body.

“Ready?” He asked. Poppy took a deep breath and nodded as he took his cell phone, finding Vincent’s number, and handing the phone to Poppy. Poppy took the phone and he looked away from her, starting to get up off of the bed, before she grabbed his hand, saying,

“Stay with me.”

Poppy called Vincent’s number, and waited for a moment as the phone rang twice, before she heard his voice,

“Tora.” A voice purred delightedly. “I’m surprised to hear from you so soon.”

Poppy gathered all of her courage, pulled every bit of strength she could muster up, and confidently said,

“Actually, this is Poppylan.”

“Well, color me shocked.” His voice dropped an octave, a deadly smoothness wrapping around each syllable. “What an absolute delight to hear from you.”

“I understand you have a proposition for me.” Poppy cut in, not willing to play his game. Tora glanced at Poppy out of the corner of his eye, a little concerned that she would talk to Vincent the way she did. Clearly she still had no idea what she was in for.

“Straight to business. I appreciate that.” Poppy could hear the smile in his voice. “I’d like to extend you an invitation to join the Balthuman organization.”

Poppy almost laughed at how businesslike the whole situation was. Her lips twitched as she thought about how bizarre everything had become over the last few days and now it almost sounded like he was offering her a job as a receptionist. Tora seemed utterly confused at her humorous reaction, raising an eyebrow in question as she bit back a smile.

“And how does one go about accepting this invitation?” Poppy asked.

“I’m so glad you asked. There’s nothing I love more than a candidate who is eager to join. Straight to it. I love it.” Vincent seemed far too gleeful at this moment and it freaked Poppy out a little.

“Tora will take you to our welcome center. From there, well, I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do.” He said. 

“Welcome center ?” Poppy questioned. Tora’s eyes widened briefly at the mention of a welcome center, but he carefully pulled his impassive mask back into place, not wanting to scare her.

“Yes, indeed.” Vincent cooed. “Welcome to the Balthuman organization, Miss Poppylan. We are so delighted to have you.”

And at that, he hung up the phone. Poppy sat frozen for a bit, a little surprised at how things played out. She had imagined needing some sort of secret password or code or set of skills. All of the gangster movies she had ever watched had been an absolute fabrication.

“Well, that went well.” She grumbled. Tora gently took the phone out of her hand, placing it on the side table.

“‘Grats?” Tora smiled awkwardly. Poppy glared at him and his smile immediately disappeared. “Ya right. Not the situation for that.”

Poppy scoffed incredulously at him, shaking her head. She stood, heading over to the window, crossing her arms and looking out at the night sky that had begun to fade into a new dawn. She felt exhausted, but invigorated, scared, but a little excited all at the same time. She reached up, pulling the tie out of her hair, allowing it to fall around her shoulders, then set about twisting a strand of hair around her finger, beginning a single braid with her other hand. Tora leaned on the windowsill next to her, uncertain how he should act, but asking a simple,

“Sweetheart...Are you okay?”

Poppy looked over at him helplessly, and he took the hint, moving a little closer to her so she could lean on him. He brushed her hair behind her shoulders, and planted a quick kiss on top of her head, still not really used to their closeness, but not disliking it either.

“I—don’t really know.” Poppy sighed. “To be honest, I’m a little scared.”

“You’d be crazy not to be.” Tora was trying to be reassuring, but he was pretty out of practice when it came to that. It was a lot easier to just tell someone to fuck off or beat the shit out of them, so all of this was wading in new waters for him.

“You know I’ll be looking out for ya.” Tora told her, trying his hand at reassurance again.

“I know...and that makes it a tiny bit better, but I think I need to make my own way.” Poppy’s eyes were beginning to feel heavy, and Tora felt remotely surprised hearing her suggest doing it on her own. He looked down at this tiny little hamster with her big balls of steel and smiled faintly. “I don’t want people doing me favors because they’re afraid of you. I want to earn their respect because of me.”

Tora leaned his head on hers, enjoying the sound of her breathing next to him. He supposed that meant he would have to keep her a secret, and with the number of prying eyes and wagging tongues, he didn’t know how long that would be for. Besides that, he didn’t really want to keep Poppy a secret. He wanted everyone to know so those fuckers wouldn’t take their chances with her, but he had to respect her decision.

“When will the whole deal with Yamamoto be taken care of?” Poppy asked dreamily.

“Probably already is taken care of.” Tora said, scooping Poppy up and taking her to bed.

“‘S good to know.” Poppy murmured, turning over on her side and drifting off. Tora looked down at Poppy and sighed. The last thing he had wanted to do when he first met her was get her involved in this organization. He wanted to keep her as far away from it as possible and what had he done? Throw her right in the middle of it—and not just that, but now she was a part of it. 

The “welcome center” Vincent had mentioned was probably the least welcoming place possible. Tora knew what went on there—people went in somewhat normal, slightly fucked up people and came out damaged; highly fucked up physically and emotionally beyond repair. He brushed her hair off of her neck, knowing that soon, that beautiful, unblemished skin would bear the mark of the Balthuman organization on it.

Tora’s phone buzzed on the nightstand and he took it, glancing down at it. Ronzo’s name glared across the screen, and he opened the text,

“You called him?”

“Didn’t have much of a choice.” Tora still felt a little perturbed at Ronzo since he was the catalyst that pushed this all into place a lot faster than he had wanted.

“Just looking out for you.” The next text read.

“Look out for yaself.” Tora’s fingers flew across the screen. 

Another buzz. Vincent this time.

“The deal is done. Your services won’t be needed for Yamamoto, and neither will Ms. Wilkes’.” 

Tora wanted to ask what he had done, what he had traded, or even worse—who he had traded, but he knew better than to push the envelope. Vincent had done him a favor, and Tora was well aware that this didn’t come without a price.

“I’ll have Poppy at the welcome center around five.” He texted back.

“Excellent. I look forward to seeing her.” Vincent wrote back, and reading that made him feel absolutely sick to his stomach. He lay back next to Poppy, afraid to take his eyes off of her, almost like she might disappear if he did. He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered,

“I’m sorry, Poppy.”

She sighed in return, unconsciously snuggling closer to Tora, wrapping her arms around his torso, and he returned the favor, wrapping his arms around her. If he allowed himself to worry about her constantly, it wouldn’t do any good for either of them. He would just have to trust that Poppy knew what she was doing and try to enjoy this time with her while she was still relatively the Poppy he knew before Balthuman sank his claws into her.


	11. The Welcome Center (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who says the only badass in this story is Tora?

The Welcome Center was a nondescript warehouse near the Ares Street district. Pulling up to it, my eyes strained to make out any details about it that I could, but the only thing that I could make out were the faded red letters on the side of the building that told me that it used to be a textile factory.

Tora drove around the back of the warehouse, parking in the back alley just behind a black Bentley and a black Mercedes sedan. My stomach was a mess of knots, as I fidgeted with my fingers, trying to calm my nerves. Tora took my hand, looking down at me sympathetically.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. When you go into the warehouse, you’ll see—“ he started, but I cut him off with a sharp,

“Don’t.”

He paused, leaning away from me.

“I don’t want to know what’s coming.” I murmured, looking out the window. Tora had taken me home last night, and I had a chance to get a training outfit and a few of my things that would fit into his car. It would be a while until I would be returning to my own apartment. 

For my own safety and for his sanity, I agreed to stay with Tora during my initiation period, but I could tell that my refusal for his assistance was killing him. He let out an irritated sigh, his fingers knocking on the car window in frustration. 

“You have no idea what ya in for, Poppy.” He spat, leaning over and fumbling furiously through the center console for his pack of cigarettes. “And you won’t even just let me help you when—“

I stopped his hand that was rummaging through the console and held it firmly. He looked up at me, his eyes flashing with pain and anger, meeting my eyes, and I hoped to god that they projected confidence.

“Believe in me.” My voice was quiet, but firm, and I could see the anger melting away from his eyes as he looked at me, his hand reaching out to touch my face.

“We can still find another way, Poppy. We can skip town. Just leave and not come back.” His voice was strained, and I felt like he was doing everything he could to either keep from crying or keep from losing his temper.

“You and I both know we can’t do that.” I talked to him gently, like trying to calm down a child mid-tantrum. He nodded, kissing my hand.

“Go inside, Tora. I’ll be right behind you.” I told him. I could see it took everything that he had in him at the time to let me hand go, turn away from me, and get out of the car. He paused outside for just a moment, looking over his shoulder, and then headed inside.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself, laced up my boots one more time out of habit, and pulled a hand wrap out of my bag, beginning the tedious process of wrapping both of my hands and my wrists. One thing that Tora probably didn’t realize about me is that my dad had tried and failed to work with me on boxing when I was younger, and as I grew older, I realized that my size was a constant source of strife. I learned self-defense, went to judo, took karate, anything that would make me feel like I had a fighting chance when all of the physical odds were stacked against me.

As I got out of the car, I took a deep breath, steadying myself, flipping my hood up over my hair and shoving my hands in my pockets. I wanted to channel as much of Tora as I possibly could.

“You can do this.” I tried hyping myself up. “You can do this, Poppy.”

***

Once inside, Tora made his way to the third floor, where he knew Vincent would be waiting. The room had been completely renovated with polished wood floors, marble accents, and golden furnishings adorning the room. As the industrial elevator opened, a few men turned to look at Tora, including Vincent himself, who smiled widely and crowed,

“Tora, my boy! I am so glad to see you!”

Tora said nothing, but turned toward the whiskey on the booze cart, grabbing the decanter, popping the crystal stopper off, and pouring a glass. He was an absolute bundle of nerves and felt he was completely on edge, despite what outward appearances might have seemed. The other men in the room where higher ranking members, each of them carrying on conversations, smoking, drinking, and a few of them were joined by escorts. In the Balthuman organization, the only thing most women were good for was their bodies. Vincent typically considered women a liability to the organization, so essentially forcing Poppy to join came as a surprise to Tora.

Vincent had built this room as a sort of observation chamber, where he could watch the initiation process from the cushy comfort of a lavish office, hidden behind one way windows at the top of the warehouse. Several monitors adorned one of the walls, showing the different warehouse rooms, from multiple perspectives, each of them, its own unique part of the initiation process.

“A word, Tora?” Vincent said, over Tora’s shoulder.

“Ah fuck.” Tora found himself thinking as he tossed back a glass of whiskey, refilling it before joining Vincent in a quiet corner.

“I understand that this must be...” Vincent waved his hand around trying to find the right word. “Difficult for you, but you know the rules. You don’t get involved in the initiation process.”

Tora’s eyes darkened, and he said,

“Yeah. I know em.” 

“If someone really hurts her, you have to know these are our new recruits. It’s survival of the fittest, Tora. Remember, there was no one there to step in and save you, and none of the others have the tiger of Ares Street on their side.”

Tora nodded subtly.

“I get it.” He told Vincent, drinking his whiskey, before finding a seat in an empty corner of the room. One of the little blonde escorts noticed Tora sitting alone, and began to approach him before Vincent called out,

“Sweetie, not that one.”

She shrugged and made her way back to the other higher ups. Tora looked down at the floor where he watched three people appear: one a tall, muscular man with tattoos all over his body leaned against a metal pillar under the glow of the golden warehouse lighting. His arms were crossed as he glanced in disinterest at the other walking in. 

The was shorter, skinnier, and he looked like a tweaker to Tora. His had a shock of blonde hair, wide, crazed eyes, and he seemed to be thrilled with the prospect of being part of the initiation process.

The third person entered, shorter, a hood over his head, and he was looking down at the ground. He was a lot shorter than the other two, and he kept his face covered, hands in his pockets. From what Tora could see, the other two turned and looked at the new entrant, seemingly a little confused before they both turned and looked at each other and smirked.

But where was Poppy? Tora’s eyes flicked over the screens, making sure he hadn’t missed something. Surely she hadn’t left? No. She wouldn’t do that. He looked at the three people on the floor again, watching as the third raised his hands up, wrapped tightly in hand wrap, pulling the hood down to reveal his little hamster, a tight set of boxing braids adorning her head.

Tora watched as the larger of the two men nudged the tweaker, then jerked his head toward Poppy. The tweaker, upon realizing it was a woman in front of him, seemed in shock at first, but then seemed to creep up on Poppy with a gentle ease.

Tora was ready to launch himself out of the window at them and kill them just for looking at her like that, but he remained impassive. He could feel Vincent’s eyes on him gauging his response, and Tora played it cool, sipping on his whiskey, and pulling a cigarette out to calm his nerves.

Tora watched as the tweaker moved just behind Poppy, reaching out and putting his hand on the inside of her upper left thigh, while the larger of the two sat back watching with a grin. Balthuman turned, seemingly interested with the new turn of events as the others in the room continued to mingle.

***

I could feel him behind me before he even touched me, and I could hear him as he approached. His breathing was ragged and uneven. The minute that I felt one hand touch me, every sense in my body woke up, and suddenly, my brain told my body what to do as his other hand reached around the front of me, grabbing me, and pressing me to his body.

“Stay calm.” I told myself. “Hands free, feet free. Go.”

I aimed a hard backward kick to his knee, scraping my foot down his leg and stomping on his foot. He let out a loud yelp, hands freeing my body like he had been shocked. I wasted no time throwing my head back, hitting him in the base of the nose and dropped down with the full weight of my body, throwing my arms up, whirling around, grabbing his hands out of the way thrusting a side kick to his groin. 

Tweaker fell to the ground like a bag of bricks, moaning, his nose a wreck of pouring blood, knee, potentially broken, leg scraped up, and now, apparently, a eunuch, moaning and rolling around on the floor.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” I enunciated each word, looking down at the tweaker and over at the larger man. The bigger man looked on in shocked amusement before bursting into loud, boisterous guffaws at the expense of the injured tweaker.

“Well,” I heard a voice from behind purr. “That saves me a lot of time and breath. Take him away.”

Looking over my shoulder I saw a well dressed man entering the room, flanked by two others. On both sides of his temples, his hair was shaved close to his head and all the way around in a fresh undercut, inky black hair neatly coiffed into place and pushed back away from his face. He had two piercings over his left eyebrow, and a myriad of piercings on his right ear (two hoops near the top of his ear and one on his lobe). He wore a pair of dark designer sunglasses, a lip ring adorning the left side of his lip.

The two men that flanked him scurried in quickly, picking up the tweaker and disappearing with him out of the warehouse doors. Poppy heard a car drive away outside.

“Let’s get down to business.” The man said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together in glee. “I’m Claude Lang, lieutenant of the clan.”

***

Tora was out of his seat the minute that the tweaker grabbed Poppy, pulling her close to him, and that rage turned into absolute shock at the turn of events that took place just after.

“Did that little hamster seriously just take him down like that?” He found himself thinking incredulously before his lips curved into a slight smile as he remembered his place and sat back down.

Balthuman wasn’t as subtle. The minute that Poppy’s foot made contact with his knee, Balthuman let out a loud, incredulous, 

“HA!”

Startling everyone in the room, who jumped, their attention turning to the screen just as Poppy dropped down, kicking the tweaker straight in right groin. Balthuman burst into fits of laughter, one of the escorts taking his drink, so he didn’t spill it as Balthuman doubled over at the sight of the tweaker rolling around on the ground in pain.

Tora was mildly amused by this reaction, but felt that amusement melt into irritation at seeing Claude Lang enter the room and introduce himself. He saw Claude’s gaze linger on Poppy a moment in bemused interest before turning to look at the larger man and continuing his spiel.

***

“Today is going to be pretty simple.” Lang explained, putting his hands together. “You beat the shit out of people, or they beat the shit out of you. Let’s call it sort of the authentic ‘Fight Club’ experience. Today, we test your physical skills.”

I had never actually seen Fight Club, but the other guy seemed to understand what he was saying. Lang looked over at me, seeming to deduce that I wasn’t clear on what he was saying:

“There are a few rules. Much like in Fight Club, you don’t talk about it. Talking gets you killed. It’s a one on one fight...for now. Fights go on as long as they have to, and since we have a woman present, I’ll waive the whole shirts and shoes stay on thing.”

“No need.” I found myself saying, as he glanced over at me. I pulled my top off, a tight sports bra in place, kicking off my boots. Next to me, the tattooed man pulled his shirt off, and while his shirt covered his face, I almost felt like I was looking at Tora. His body was built the same, tattooed eerily similar, and he stood as tall as Tora did from what I could tell. I turned away, embarrassed at myself for daydreaming.

“Oi.” I heard a thick Cockney accent call me. I glanced over at tattoos, and Lang turned his head toward the conversation, seemingly interested. Tattoos closed the gap between the two of us, standing uncomfortably close to me as I glanced up at him, holding his gaze, trying hard not to show how intimidated a felt.

“Don’t think that just because you’re a girl, I won’t hesitate to knock ya ass out, yeah?” He grinned. I pivoted toward him. He was just like everyone else who ever assumed I was helpless just because of my size. It irritated me to know he was no different, but also felt oddly reassuring because that meant that he had effectively fit me into the “no contest” box. He didn’t perceive me as a threat.

“And that’s where his downfall will be.” I heard my dad’s voice echo in my head, hardening my heart and strengthening my resolve 

“Don’t think that just because I’m a girl automatically means you’re going to intimidate me into submission.” I stood up straight, trying to seem assertive, but tattoos just guffawed at me.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make you submit to me alright, girly.” He purred, grabbing his crotch. “I think you’ll quite like it when I’m done with you. You might even want to submit to me some more, eh, love?”

I swung at him, and he dodged out of the way, laughing at me.

“‘S like a cute little chihuahua taking on a Pitbull.” He crowed, laughing at me, and patting me on top of the head like a dog, and that was all it took to send me over the edge.

“Did you know that out of all animals, chihuahuas are most likely to bite when provoked?” My voice was cool. Collected. “And the bite might not be fatal, but enough to injure.”

Tattoos stopped laughing, a faint smirk on his face as I continued,

“Chihuahuas also tend to have Napoleon Complex. You know, they made fun of Napoleon for his size too...and he ended up taking over an entire fucking kingdom.”

I stepped closer to him, watching his lip curl into a sneer.

“Tell me one more time how you’re not going to be taking it easy on me.” I spat at him. At that, Lang nodded, clearly seeing we were ready to go, whistling loud as men of all shapes and sizes emerged from the corners of the room.

It was going to be a long night.


	12. The Welcome Center (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Violent chapter ahead.
> 
> Also, long chapter. I wanted to see things through Poppy’s eyes and Tora’s eyes, soooo here ya go!
> 
> Enjoy!

“Quiet!” Vincent shouted over the din of the crowd in the viewing chamber. “Turn that monitor up!”

Tora watched as the tattooed man approached Poppy, watching her tense up. 

“Don’t think that just because you’re a girl, I won’t hesitate to knock ya ass out, yeah?” Tora heard him say. And there was his little Poppy looking the dude dead in the eyes, saying,

“Don’t think that just because I’m a girl automatically means you’re going to intimidate me into submission.”

He heard a few people in the room chuckle at that because it seemed so ridiculous. There’s no way that tiny little girl could take down a notorious thug like Ramsey. Tora glanced over at the crew, watching them all get comfortable in their seats, resuming a quiet chatter while Balthuman’s eyes were glued to the screen. He slowly made his way over, standing beside Tora.

“She’s a feisty little thing.” He grinned. Tora, narrowed his eyes at Vincent, but when he heard Ramsey say,

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make you submit to me alright, girly. I think you’ll quite like it when I’m done with you. You might even want to submit to me some more, eh, love?” 

His head snapped back to the screen, hand clenching into a fist. Vincent studied him closely, watching his reactions as Tora gritted his teeth, blood pumping in his ears, their next few lines muffled for him as he imagined all the ways he would bring pain to Ramsey...beginning by cutting off his tiny fucking little dick.

“This is not good.” Tora found himself thinking. “At this rate, the whole fucking clan is going to be in pieces by the time I’m finished with them just for looking at her the wrong way. I need to look at her like one of them.”

“Yeah, good luck with that, fucker.” That little snake of a voice in his conscience popped his head up from a less than restful sleep, hair a mess. “You’ve already had her four times now. Besides that, you love her, so...”

“Ah, fuck off.” Stupid damned alter ego. Tora subconsciously swatted him away, and he fell off the grid back into the darkness of his mind with amused laughter. 

Balthuman burst into unprecedented laughter again at whatever was said next, startling Tora as he turned his attention to the screen just in time to see Poppy swing a hard right hook at Ramsey. He sat forward, listening as Poppy seethed,

“Chihuahuas also tend to have Napoleon Complex. You know, they made fun of Napoleon for his size too...and he ended up taking over an entire fucking kingdom.”

He watched her take a step toward Ramsey, before growling,

“Tell me one more time how you’re not going to be taking it easy on me.”

And watching her say that with such ease and confidence, Tora felt himself get hard. Damn if that wasn’t his woman putting someone two times her size in his place. An odd sense of satisfaction wrapped around him like a warm blanket, and his mind trailed back to the night before, that same assertive girl taking absolute control over him and his body, possessing him in more ways than one.

“She really is quite extraordinary.” He heard Vincent say, taking a seat beside him, and sipping his drink. “Where on earth did you find her?”

Tora glanced over at him, then back at the screen, and said,

“Wrecked in some tiny shithole of a town.”

***

“Ladies first.” Tattoos purred, motioning me to the center of the room. I glanced over my shoulder at him, narrowing my eyes one more time and stepped into the center of the room. Lang had taken his seat on a barrel of the second story, arms hanging over the railing, flanked by his two men, content to watch the fights away from the blood spatter and inevitable ejection of other bodily fluids.

Laughter erupted around me as I stood alone in the middle of the room along with catcalls and various whistles aimed at me. I had expected this, and instead of lashing out, I thought back to Tora’s impassive face when it came to overemotional situations, and took note. 

I pressed the hand wraps down one more time, checking them to make sure they were still wrapped appropriately. I moved a strand of hair out of my face, waiting for someone to step up. I glanced up at Lang, who glanced right back at me, seemingly unmoved by the unnerving experience of standing alone in the middle of a gigantic room surrounded by rambunctious thugs.

Out of the crowd, a few people parted, making room for a taller shadow to pass through them. The room went eerily quiet as the man stepped out of the shadows and into the golden light.

Pale skin, and a skinny frame followed by striking blue wide eyes caught my attention. Somehow, the wide smirk on his face made me feel immediately sick to my stomach. His short auburn hair fell over his face, and he tucked it behind his left ear, a small silver hoop adorning the lobe. He hadn’t even bothered to take it off despite knowing he was coming in for a fight. He exuded confidence and cockiness.

What struck me even more was the fact that he was still wearing a cleanly pressed white shirt tucked into his gray slacks and open at the collar, the Balthuman tattoo clearly visible and, in fact, in full display for all to see, a gray vest buttoned up neatly over said shirt.

He sauntered into the middle of the room just in front of me, stopping a few feet away, and I was unsure of how to proceed or what would signify the start of the fight. I got my answer quickly as he moved at me suddenly with lightning fast speed, a vicious jab cleanly connecting with my jaw, sending me stumbling backward as he pressed forward, coming right at me again, my head panicking, trying to remember what to do, as he aimed a well placed kick to the stomach knocking me to the floor and sitting on top of me, his hands beginning the onslaught of strikes to the face.

“Get it together Poppy. Fight!” My brain screamed at me, as I continued taking blows to the face, nose, eyes, and ears. All of the vulnerable places. “Remember your training.”

As his hand went up for another strike to the face, I jabbed the heel of my hand up into his nose hard enough to break it before aiming a hard punch into his Adam’s apple. Somewhere in the building I heard a muffled cheer erupt and pounding from the sound of celebrations at the new turn of events.

My assailant fell backward away from me, and I rolled out of the way, getting to my feet, disoriented, in pain, but the adrenaline feeding my resolve numbed what would have been excruciating pain. Rivers of blood flowed down from my nose and forehead, my ears ringing from repeated blows, blood slowly dripping from them too.

My heart was pounding out of my chest, as he got to his feet, clearly infuriated by my response. He charged at me again, and this time, I was ready for him, as I sidestepped out of the way, pushing him as he went by, but I wasn’t fast enough to stop him from catching me around me waist and whirling me around before locking me in a tight bear hug, my arms pinned down by him as I flailed. He started to pick me up, and I knew he intended on slamming me to the ground. I jerked back, not quite able to hit him in the nose because I was too short, but throwing him off balance, forcing him to put his leg forward to balance himself. Quickly, I bent down, pulling his leg, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward onto the ground.

Again, he stood, and, admittedly, I was impressed by his resolve. He came at me fast, aiming jab after lightning fast jab to my jaw, and this time, I was unable to avoid them. I took the hits, stumbling backward into a pillar as he pursued. He wrapped his hands around my throat, seething,

“Get. The. Fuck. Down. Bitch!”

My vision started to go blurry, and in one last effort, I threw my hands up with all of my strength, straightening my palms and jabbing them into his armpits, as I swung myself out of the way, aiming a hard elbow to his jaw, and stumbling onto the floor, scurrying out of the way. 

He ran after me, grabbing me by the waist, rolling and slamming me onto the floor hard, trapping my wrists over my head as he sat down on my body. I was in a bad spot, and I knew it.

“What do I do?” My brain shrieked. “What do I do?!”

My right eye had begun to swell up, blood tainting my vision a deep crimson, making it difficult to see out of. I bucked against him with my hips, letting out a feral scream of frustration, and he made the mistake of laughing at me. Laughing. At. Me.

Demoralization. There was nothing more demoralizing than being sat on, pinned to the ground, and laughed at. Out of nowhere, unwelcome memories flooded into my mind:

“Let her go, baby. You won’t even need to break the news now.” Julri’s face, smudged with lipstick, flushed from a heavy “study session.”

Demoralizing.

“I got her alright. I got her good...I just need to find me another dumb bitch.” The blonde boy, walking around the corner on his phone, stepping in my way as I tried to file a police report. 

Demoralizing.

“DNA tests are too costly for such a minor offense...I’ll get around to your case.” Inspector Lane, dismissing my case.

Demoralizing.

“...is he not taking me seriously because I look like a teenager?” Staring into the mirror, wondering where I had gone wrong with Mr. Lam.

Demoralizing.

“Hey Julri. Your girlfriend made that for you?” Julri staring at the lunch I made him, surrounded by his friends, who were laughing, making fun of a lunch I had taken extra time to make him because I thought he would love it.

Demoralizing.

“How old is she? Eight?”

Demoralizing.

“C’mon. I’m sure you can do better than that.”

Demoralizing.

“Aww. Your girlfriend’s more sophisticated than that, amirite?”

Demoralizing.

“You made him a Pokimon bento? What were you thinking, Pops?”

Demoralizing.

“Hey.” I heard his voice break through the onslaught of laughter and voices that mocked me in my head. It was deep, warm, comforting. “Slow down now. Don’t go all panic mode on me.”

Tora. 

“Think, Poppy.” My vision was going blurry quickly as I started losing oxygen, the world fading a little at a time, black haze creeping around the edges of my vision.

I mustered up everything I had left, lifting my hips up into a high bridge, yelling out, straining as he fell forward, face-planting hard into the ground, my arms coming down, like a snow angel. His body fell hard on top of mine, my head turned to the side to avoid his body hitting me in my nose, as he grunted in pain. I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling my head tight into his chest as he struggled to pull himself free of me.

“Enough!” I heard Lang yell from the balcony. Reluctantly, I pulled my arms off of him, and my assailant pushed me to the ground, aiming a hard slap to my face. The room erupted in anger at the cheap shot to the face, Lang even standing up quickly at the sight of it as my assailant stormed off, shirt ripped and stained, buttons popped off of his vest.

I lay on the floor, breathing hard, the world spinning around me as I started to feel a warm sensation spreading out around the back of my head. My breathing slowed, the sounds of cheering and hollering becoming a low hum in my mind as my vision faded in and out. 

Out of nowhere, I felt a strong pair of arms lifting me up, and at first, I panicked a little, struggling against the assistance, especially realizing tattoos was the one helping me up.

“Easy, girly.” He said gruffly. “Not here to hurt ya. Just moving you out of the way.”

I nodded, allowing him to effortlessly pick me up and carry me off to the side of the warehouse, setting me down on a discarded pile of textiles. Tattoos took his shirt, ripping a piece of it and dabbing at the blood around my face and ears.

“That was a hell of a fight.” He said, gingerly putting the cloth up my nose and in my ears to stop the bleeding. My eye was already swollen shut, and he inspected me carefully, turning my head from side to side, assessing the damage.

“Looks like you’ll have a concussion. Your nose is broken, you’ll need stitches in a few places, and you’ll have a helluva lot of swelling and soreness, but overall, doesn’t seem to be a lot of permanent damage.” He stood up, and I watched him, swaying back and forth, still unsure of what to feel about who this guy was. My eyes trailed after him as he posted himself back up on a pillar, glancing out onto the floor, watching the next two men fight each other for sport.

“Why are you doing this?” I grumbled, staring at his back. I saw his head drop down, and he turned, speaking over his shoulder,

“Because ya fought a good fight—a fair fight. Ya didn’t back down when the odds were stacked against ya, and stacked against you they were.” He explained, turning around to face me again and crossing his arms, leaning on the pillar. Again, a flash of Tora leaning on the pillar crossed my mind. I saw Tora turn, the right corner of his mouth curving into a gentle smile as I smiled back, and I felt my vision going hazy, my body swaying, toppling to the right.

“Ohhh no you don’t, girly.” Tattoos took two large strides over, catching my arm, patting me lightly on the side of the face. 

“I’m fine, Tora!” I growled. A humorous look crossed his face, and he said,

“I ain’t no Tora, but I suspect that’s your squeeze.”

My eyes went wide, recognizing I had just given away information that I wasn’t meant to.

“‘S okay. The name’s Ramsey.” He held his hand out. “I suspect we will be seeing a lot more of one another.”

“Poppy.” I shook his hand.

“Poppy, yeah?” He smiled. “Well then, Poppy. It’s been a real pleasure, but I do believe the time for salutations is over. Do me a favor, love. Don’t go to sleep, alright? Not until your squeeze is here to get you, yeah?”

I nodded lazily after him as Ramsey looked over his shoulder seeing the warehouse floor empty, pushed away from me, waving over his shoulder as he grinned,

“Well, that’s my cue, love. Stay awake.”

And off he went.

***  
Tora felt like he was about to have a heart attack staring at Poppy alone in the middle of the warehouse, but seeing that sadistic fucker Scharch stepping into the ring to fight Poppy nearly did him in. Tora had heard the rumors about him: how he took special pleasure in inflicting pain on others, unbiased when it came to sex or age. He reveled in the feeling of fresh blood on his hands, and especially enjoyed if that blood was spilled in an extraordinarily painful fashion. He wasn’t above cheap shots and certainly wasn’t above taking what didn’t belong to him by force.

He had mentally prepared himself to see Poppy get hit, but seeing it happen and not being able to intervene...He did his best to look at it objectively—like watching an MMA match on television or a boxing match from the stands, but the pull in his heart every time she took a jab kept reminding him that this wasn’t something that was or ever could be objective for him.

He watched an unprepared Poppy take a hard jab straight to the face, followed by a severe kick to the stomach as he saw her go down hard onto the floor. He set his jaw, watching Scharch climb on top of her landing blow after blow.

“Just look away.” His subconscious told him sympathetically, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do that. 

“Ah! I forget how quick he is!” Balthuman grinned, admiring Scharch’s skill as he popped a cashew into his mouth from a golden bowl he held in his lap. A few of the crew had taken a special interest in the fight since seeing Scharch was the one fighting and not one of the underlings, when suddenly the room erupted into chaos.

Tora turned his attention back to the monitor, watching as Poppy aimed a hard blow to Scharch’s nose, and he knew just from looking at the angle and how his head snapped back that it was broken. He saw Poppy aim another hard jab to the Adam’s apple, and most of the crew immediately got onto their feet, shouting in disbelief and joy.

Balthuman’s eyes were wide as he leaned forward, shoving another handful of nuts into his mouth, grinning from ear to ear completely mesmerized by the show. Tora stood up, rounding the back of the chair and leaned on it for extra support.

Scharch stood again, charging at Poppy, who moved deftly out of the way, but was not able to avoid a bear hug from Scharch. Again, she somehow managed to make her way out of that situation as the room erupted into cheers and chaos again, libations and food flying through the air as multitudes of celebrations echoed off the walls as Scharch slammed onto the ground, scrambling to get up once again. This time, he was aiming to do more than just hurt her as Tora saw Scharch wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze. The room fell into a flurry of whispers, an anxious buzz settling over the room and a thick tension building as the a few of the escorts covered their eyes or put their hand over their mouth in shock.

“Vincent.” Tora growled as the seconds ticked by. Vincent shooed him away, watching the show as Poppy struggled for air. 

“Get. The. Fuck. Down. Bitch!” The monitor bellowed. The rest of the room erupted into shouts, pushing each other around as Tora watched the light slowly draining out of Poppy’s eyes.

“VINCENT!” Tora bellowed again, just in time to see Poppy jab her hands into Scharch’s underarms, gasping for breath. He watched her stumble away, hands skating across the floor as she tried to regain her balance. She was hurt—and badly, trying her best to stand as Scharch charged her, tackling her and throwing her to the ground, her head bouncing off of the floor like a rubber ball, blood beginning to form a pool on the back of her head as she lay there, unmoving.

“She’s going to die.” Tora seethed through gritted teeth, and Vincent cast a sharp glance over in Tora’s direction. Tora whirled around, punching a wall hard and exiting the room toward the balcony. He raked his fingers through his hair, pulling at it, absolutely infuriated with himself because this was it. He was really being forced to sit her and watch her die. There was nothing he could do about it.

Tora paced back and forth on the balcony, hands on his hips, as he muttered under his breath,

“Get up, Poppy. Get up.”

Only to see her lying there, practically lifeless as that pool of blood spread around her head, while Scharch wrapped his hands around her throat, squeezing hard enough to break her windpipe. 

He wanted to kill her because she had humiliated him, and Tora knew that if that happened, the next thing Scharch would see would be a tall dark figure waiting for him in a dark alley. 

“Come on, Poppy.” Tora practically sobbed. He felt tears stinging his eyes as he stopped moving for a second, looking down at the two of them, his hands gripping the railing of the balcony. Tora lowered his head, squeezing his eyes shut only to hear an almost inhuman, feral shriek, his head snapping up to see Scharch face planting on the ground and Poppy wrapping her arms tight around his body, her head close to his chest holding on for dear life where he couldn’t hit her anymore with a clear shot.

“ENOUGH!” He heard Lang shout, and Tora’s knees practically gave out as he hit the floor hard. He watched as Poppy let go of Scharch, and Scharch pushed Poppy to the ground, her head bouncing again in the puddle of blood as he aimed a hard sucker punch to her face. Tora bellowed in anger at the cheap shot, but his voice was drowned out as the rest of the warehouse erupted in outrage and dismay as well.

Tora saw Ramsey jogging out onto the warehouse floor and trying to pick Poppy up, as she struggled against him. He watched Ramsey speak gently to her and carry her off the floor, and Tora took that as his opportunity to head back inside the viewing chamber where the room was still abuzz with chatter about the fight.

Balthuman had been waiting for Tora, and he handed him another glass of whiskey as Tora flopped down onto the couch in exhaustion. Vincent said nothing as Tora took the drink, downing it quickly, and Vincent called another girl over to refill his glass just as he finished it.

“You didn’t tell me she was a fighter.” Balthuman quietly said, and Tora glanced over at him, shaking his head.

“I didn’t know.” He told Vincent honestly. 

“If things keep going as they are, I have some very big plans for Miss Poppylan.” Vincent sat back, swirling the whiskey in his glass, the wheels in his head turning as he nodded to himself. Tora’s eyes focused on the screen as he watched Ramsey inspect Poppy, doctoring her as best as he could before heading out onto the floor himself where he absolutely destroyed his competition, one of the less experienced underlings.

“Take her home. Get her feeling better. Have her back in three days time.” Vincent told Tora. Tora glared at Vincent, getting up angrily, storming toward the door. Vincent grabbed his arm, and Tora looked down at him impassively as he reminded Tora,

“It was either this or a life of drug induced prostitution. At least here, she has a chance to fight off her attackers. Can the same be said for her there?”

And even though Tora was absolutely furious, he realized that Vincent Balthuman was absolutely right. After all, this was indeed the greater of two evils.


	13. Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, a little darkness at the beginning, but I figured after the intensity of the last chapter, we could use a little more fluff before we go spiraling into gang life again.

Tora burst through the doors of the first floor, entering near the underlings. A few of them stumbled backward, clearly shocked to see Tora standing in the middle of the crowd, and more than a little intimidated at the murderous look on his face.

His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Scharch as he charged forward, grabbing one of the underlings and lifting him up off of the ground. The boy, no more than about eighteen, flailed around helplessly, his dark eyes watering in fear as the others scattered backward like cockroaches away from the light.

“Where. The fuck. Is Scharch?” Tora seethed, shaking the boy a little.

“I—I don’t know! H—he left right after the fight.” The boy squeaked out. Tora unceremoniously dropped him to the ground, where he crashed onto his elbows, scurrying away toward the other roaches who backed into the shadows.

He stalked around the outer perimeter, now looking for Poppy, and, when he couldn’t see her, likely because she was so much shorter than the rest of the crowd, he searched for Ramsey, who was still leaning against a pillar, watching with unabashed disinterest, barely a scrape on him after his fight. He plowed through anyone in his way, catching sight of a two matted boxing braids behind Ramsey, who turned to look at Tora as he approached, pushing himself off of the pillar and stepping in between Tora and Poppy.

“And just where do ya think you’re going?” Ramsey’s voice held a hint of humor, taunting Tora. Ramsey moving to cut Tora off had attracted quite a bit of attention as a few of the underlings looked on, curious to see how the two notorious giants would deal with each other.

Tora stepped up to Ramsey, growling,

“I’m going to forgive ya for not knowing who ya talking to right now, but if you don’t get the FUCK out of my way, I will fucking kill you.”

Ramsey had the incredible gall to grin at Tora, crossing his arms, and sighing,

“No can do, mate. Poppy back here is not fit to be taking on anyone else besides yours truly, and as handsome of a devil as you are, I don’t like to share.”

Tora gritted his teeth in frustration, and Ramsey reached around Tora and said,

“You can go back the way you came, bruv.”

Tora felt every muscle in his body tense up as he lifted Ramsey up off of the floor, slamming him into a pillar, effectively knocking him for quite a loop before discarding him on the ground as he had the boy before.

Ramsey reached out, grabbing at Tora’s ankle, and Tora aimed a kick right at his face, effectively putting Ramsey down for the count. He turned toward Poppy who was swaying back and forth with her eyes closed, all of his anger vanishing as he knelt down before her, putting his hand gently on her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and she slurred,

“Mmm. It’s you.”

“It’s me, sweetheart.” He gently said to her, lifting her up. Poppy’s head drunkenly looked over Tora’s shoulder, seeing Ramsey out on the ground, and her face shifted, becoming visibly upset,

“What did you do to Ramsey?”

Tora glanced over his shoulder at Ramsey, his eyes rolling in annoyance as he said,

“He needed to take a nap. I assisted.”

“Tora, you—“

“Don’t.” Tora cut her off sharply, and Poppy went silent, recognizing that Tora in this state of distress and anger was not a person that she even wanted to try reasoning or arguing with.

He set her in the car, quickly shutting the door as Poppy swayed from side to side, fighting to keep her eyes open as they fluttered shut.

“Oh, no you don’t. Not again.” Tora pushed, and Poppy’s eyes snapped open. Tora pulled out his phone, dialing Quincey’s number.

“Honey!” A delighted voice answered.

“I need a doctor—now.” Tora barked into the phone. 

“Are you okay?” Quincey’s voice was worried now. Tora wasn’t one to call for help, and listening to the distress in his voice now was enough to scare him.

“No.” Tora flatly answered. “Get a doctor over. Now. I’ll be over in five.”

And at that, Tora floored it, not giving two shits about the law or anyone else who stood in the way of him and getting Poppy to that doctor.

***

“Oh my god!” Quincey shrieked, seeing Poppy in Tora’s arms, bleeding profusely as he scrambled out of the way of the door to let them in.

“Heh. Hey Quincey.” Poppy slurred, waving drunkenly at a highly disturbed Quincey.

“Is that...is that real blood?” Quincey squeaked, and Tora rushed Poppy into the guest bedroom where the doctor was waiting, putting her on the bed.

“The fuck do you think?” Tora grumbled. Quincey rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a towel, and Tora put his hand out to take the towel, watching Quincey prance right by him with said towel and some cleaning solution, dabbing and scrubbing at the blood on the floor.

“Ohhhh I hope this comes out. This is a brand new rug, Tora!” Quincey whined.

“I’ll remember to tread carefully over ya brand new expensive shit when I’m trying to bring my bleeding girl through here to make sure she doesn’t have any permanent damage to her.” Tora hissed. Quincey stopped scrubbing the floor, peeking up at Tora, who crossed his arms.

“Did—“ Quincey wrung his hands together, afraid to formulate the question he wanted to ask, “did you...do that?”

“Of course I didn’t do that!” Tora all but yelled, and Quincey nearly jumped out of his skin. “The fuck do I look like to ya?”

“Yeah.” Quincey giggled nervously in a cadence much like Scooby Doo. “O—of course not.”

Tora plopped down onto the couch, lighting a cigarette and taking an irritated drag from it. In all the time Quincey had known Tora, he couldn’t remember the last time that he saw Tora this way. Tora was typically one to hide his emotions, that same no-fucks-given attitude that had been with him for most of his life.

Quincey sat down next to Tora, considering telling him that he didn’t want him smoking in his apartment because the smell was atrocious, and really afflicted his sensitive golden boy lungs, but for once, he decided that maybe just for now, it could be okay. Besides that, he wasn’t willing to be dangled over a balcony or have Tora pour cold water over his freshly coiffed hair, effectively ruining his hour of work.

Tora leaned forward, putting the cigarette out on a china plate in front of him, raking his hands through his hair, elbows pressed firmly on his knees in front of him. The guest bedroom was quiet, and Tora wasn’t sure if that made him nervous or if he should be glad that she wasn’t suffering enough to make noise. Quincey nervously put a hand on Tora’s back, giving him an awkward pat, unsure of how to respond to this foreign incident, but Tora glanced over at him and said simply,

“Get ya hand off me.”

“Yeah. Right. No. Of course. Sorry.” Quincey stammered, moving away, nervous maniacal laughter erupting from his lips as Tora looked at him like he had lost his mind.

“Yeah, so I’m going to go do some very important things in the kitchen.” Quincey laughed, popping up off of the chair. “Yeah super important book business stuff that can be done only in the kitchen, and no where else in the apartment like here.”

Quincey dashed off, leaving Tora alone on the couch, listening to the ticking of the pendulum clock on the wall.

***

The door to the guest bedroom opened with a hushed whisper as the doctor stepped out, trying to be as quiet as possible. He turned around and ran smack into the hard chest of a very anxious Tora. Tora put his hands out, steadying the older man, who readjusted his glasses and harrumphed.

“She okay?” Tora grumbled. The doctor looked up at Tora incredulously.

“Is she okay?” The doctor almost laughed at the question. “She’s most certainly NOT okay.”

Tora raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms, and the doctor looked at Tora, unsure if he should disclose her condition to him. Tora could tell by the way that he looked at him nervously that the doctor obviously thought Tora could have been responsible for Poppy’s state just like everyone else would have thought who hadn’t been there.

“She went through initiation.” Tora sighed, resolving those suspicions that the doctor and apparently everyone else seemed to have.

“She’s sedated right now. I had to give her stitches on the back of her head because it was split open. I gave her some anti-inflammatories to bring the swelling down on her face. I don’t have x-rays to be able to say for sure, but I feel pretty confident that her left zygomatic and temporal bone are cracked from the amount of sustained swelling and bruising.” He explained. “She’s got signs of a severe concussion and several broken ribs as well as a laryngeal fracture. Not to mention the fact that it’s a good possibility that she could have some memory loss from this attack.”

Tora felt completely floored hearing all of this information. He had expected it to be bad. Hell, he knew just from being in Poppy’s place as a kid that it was going to be bad, but he hadn’t been prepared for it to be THAT bad. His whole mind and body went completely numb as he processed this information.

“I don’t know who did this to her.” The doctor sighed. “But it seems pretty clear that he intended to immobilize or possibly kill her. This wasn’t a simple fight.”

The doctor handed Tora several bottles of medication, explaining what each one was, and giving Tora a sheet of paper with administration instructions.

“If she gets any worse, please call me.” The doctor advised and at that, he quietly left the apartment. Tora stood outside the partially open door of the guest bedroom, afraid of what he would see on the inside. He summoned up all of his courage and headed inside to see this pummeled version of Poppy lying on the bed.

Tora sat down on Poppy’s bedside, looking down at her face, almost unrecognizable at this point.

“Don’t do this to yourself.” That voice in his head whispered. “It won’t do you any good.”

But he had to. Tora’s hands shook as he gingerly inspected her, beginning with her face where deep black, purple, and crimson bruises completely closed one of her eyes. Dried blood still stained the area below her nose, and her mouth was swollen, dried blood collected in the corner of her mouth.

Poppy’s hair was a matted mess of blood, dirt, and unkempt hair that had been forcefully pulled out of her boxer’s braids. His eyes trailed down to her throat, two distinct handprints turning purple on her neck.

Tora kicked off his shoes and laid down beside Poppy, listening to her sputtered breathing as she rested as peacefully as she possibly could. At the moment, he wanted more than anything to take her in his arms and hold her tight, but realizing that would probably hurt her, he opted to just gentle place his hand on her arm where there wasn’t any bruising. Carefully, he raised Poppy’s right hand, unraveling the hand wrap to make her, potentially, a little more comfortable, and then repeated the ritual with the left hand.

Tora headed into the bathroom, grabbing a wash rag and a mop bucket, filling the bucket up with warm water a soap, depositing it on the floor next to Poppy before grabbing two towels, lying one under her body, which he carefully lifted up, stripping her of her clothes. In all the time he had fantasized about her naked body without her clothes, seeing her like this was something he never thought would happen. Tora had always prided himself on protecting the people and things that he cared about, and it was one of the most unsettling experiences he had been through in a while.

He sighed, gingerly lifting her head up and unraveling her boxing braids. He wrapped a towel around the front of her head to avoid water dripping into her face, and set about washing her hair to get all of the dirt, blood, and grime out of it.

Then, he moved down the rest of her body, gently buffing away the same grime there until she was clean at last. With the second towel he brought, he set about dabbing the moisture off of her body, before heading back into the bathroom with the dirty mop bucket, pouring it all down the drain.

He re-emerged from the guest bedroom, ready to look for Quincey, when he kicked a small gift bag at his feet. He picked it up, looking inside and saw designer clothes folded neatly inside of the bag, along with a small bottle of deoderant and perfume. He looked up, his lips curving into a gentle smile as he spotted Quincey working on the floor of the kitchen, his hands delicately moving across the journal pages, unaware that Tora was watching him.

Quietly, he shut the door and dressed Poppy before lying down next to her, putting his hand on her arm. He nuzzled his head into her body, taking in the floral fragrance that was so characteristic of Poppy, closing his eyes and listening to the sound of her breathing before that became the cadence the sent him into a less than peaceful, but much needed sleep.

***

Tora’s eyes fluttered open, the morning sun casting a golden orange light on the bedroom as he sat up, stretching. Next to him, Poppy was still asleep, and yesterday was simply beginning to feel like a bad dream.

Tora glanced down at Poppy, the swelling seeming a little worse than yesterday before he quietly left her bedside, moving into the guest bathroom where he flipped on the light, looking at himself in the mirror where the full effect of Poppy’s injuries were on display: on his face and chin, smudged blood dried and flaked from where she had leaned her head against him. His shirt and pants were nearly completely red on the front of him, stained by her blood, and as he ran his hands and arms under the warm water from the bathroom sink, he watched the sink grow a light red as that same blood was washed down the sink and forgotten.

Tora turned on the shower, pulling off his clothes with an easy haste and stepping in, scrubbing the rest of the horrible memory off of his body. He attacked his hair next, viciously washing it before placing his hands out in front of him, letting the scalding hot water run down his back in torrents. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow hobble quietly into the bathroom, and he pulled the curtain back to see Poppy looking at herself in the mirror. She caught his eye for a moment, then went back to examining herself, hands touching various parts of her face, touching the two handprints on her neck. He watched her face twist into an angry expression, her fists clenching together, and Tora knew that feeling well—that mixture of anger and sadness, pain and bewilderment.

He turned off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist, and pushing his hair back away from his face, before heading out, standing behind Poppy just in time to watch her fist fly toward the mirror, before he caught it, saying,

“Don’t do that.”

She whirled on Tora aiming blow after blow at his chest, and he let it happen, catching her each time she swayed in dizziness, accepting the pain and confusion she must be feeling, before he gently wrapped his arms around her. Poppy let out a loud screech of frustration, flailing in his arms for a moment before she finally calmed down, her breathing fast and uneven, falling off to the right side as Tora tried to pick her up.

“No, DON’T!” Poppy yelled, breaking free of his grasp. Tora reached out, wanting to comfort her, but Poppy whirled on him, bellowing, “I. SAID. DON’T!”

Tora stood back, hands dropping to his sides, allowing her to process this how she needed to. She stormed into the bedroom, her hands vigorously whipping her hair into braids, as she threw the sliding balcony door open, stumbling out onto the balcony where he saw her sit on the balcony seat, staring at the morning sunrise.

Tora dressed in extra clothes Quincey kept for him there, headed into the kitchen, and Quincey, who had been so focused on writing that he hadn’t heard or seen Tora enter, nearly jumped out of his skin as Tora seemingly appeared next to him, grabbing two mugs and beginning to prepare tea.

“You know, if you could announce yourself next time, you might save half of the people you encounter on a daily basis a heart attack.” Quincey huffed. “Jeez. And right when I was getting to the steamy bits where you—I—I mean the main character finally gets the girl he’s been going after into bed! It’s going to take me at least five minutes to get back into the sexy time zone.”

Tora glanced down at Quincey, who pouted up at Tora. Tora reached for the morning newspaper that was sitting on the counter, rolled it up, and smacked Quincey on the head.

“Well I WAS going to tell you there was already a kettle of hot water in the stove because I was being nice.” Quincey grumbled, rubbing his head. Tora smirked, grabbing the kettle and pouring it into the mug before depositing the two tea bags into the tea. 

“How,” Quincey was fidgeting with his fountain pen, spinning it on his finger, “How is she?”

“Confused.” Tora said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, allowing the tea to steep in the water. “Angry.”

Quincey nodded, trying his best to understand what Tora was saying, but really not able to. Instead, he tried to empathize, imagining how he felt when his father would discipline him since that was the closest thing he could think of that was even remotely close to what both Tora and Poppy were feeling.

In Tora’s mind, the echoes of the past fast forwarded into the present as a table crashed across his mind and onto the ground,

“...fine, get it out if ya have to...good thing for you this is nothing I’ve never seen before.”

Alice. She was one of the few that had seen what his meltdowns looked like and understood how he felt. She had experience with explosive behavior and didn’t judge him for it.

“My son was worse than you when he was your age.” She had said.

Her...son. Tora turned his attention to the tea bag, dipping it in and out of the water and watching the light brown coloring flower out, spreading its tendrils of flavor.

“Take this money and go get that jaw looked at immediately...or else.” A second voice echoed across his mind. Tora’s lips curved into a fond smile. He reached down absentmindedly, touching the black bracelet, running his fingers over his silver ring.

Tora pulled the tea bags out disposing of them, and taking both mugs. He paused at the kitchen door and Quincey looked up at him. Tora glanced over his shoulder, and quietly said,

“What you did for Poppy: the doctor. Getting her those nice clothes.”

Tora swallowed hard, gathering his courage and continued,

“T—thank you.”

Quincey raised his eyebrows, completely in shock at this side of Tora, but before he could get a word out, Tora left the room.

***

The door slid open behind me, and I felt my defenses fly up again. What didn’t this man understand? I wanted to be alone, and he just kept pushing and kept pushing.

I cast a glare over my shoulder at him, and he sat down on the rattan chair, setting down two mugs of tea and a cocktail of pills. He said nothing to me, simply taking his tea and sipping it. 

I felt my anger simmer into irritation, grabbing my tea and the pills and taking them all at once. Tora rummaged around in his pocket, producing a pack of crackers, pulling the package open, and setting them down on the table. 

“So ya stomach doesn’t get upset from the pills.” He grumbled. I reached out, taking a cracker and munching on it, before putting the mug up to my lips, enjoying the feeling of the warmth on my skin and that heated liquid trailing down my throat. I put my head back against the seat, closing my eyes, before I sighed,

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with ya.” Tora said, taking another sip of tea. 

“Why do I feel so—so—“

“Angry?” Tora placed the feeling perfectly. “Confused? Upset? Sad? Alone?”

I glanced over at him and he looked down at his tea, swirling it around gently in the cup.

“Because nothing that you’ve been through is normal. Normal people don’t beat the shit out of each other for a job interview. Normal people don’t try to kill each other to prove their worth.” He explained, sipping his tea before turning those beautiful eyes toward me, and I felt the rest of that irritation and anger melt away just looking at him, finding a kindred spirit.

“What ya feel though,” he said, reaching over and putting the tea down, before leaning forward, elbows on his knees, full attention on me. “It’s normal. It’s okay to feel what ya feeling. Hell, I’d be more concerned if ya didn’t.”

Tora had come a long way when it came to comforting others. This once awkward man who had only ever really had to worry about himself was finally understanding how to talk to others.

I felt myself smile at him, and he smiled back, turning back toward the sunrise.

“I gotta say. I didn’t expect ya to know anything about fighting.” He told me, and I felt my face flush hearing him ask the unspoken question.

“I’ve always been...small.” I started. “My dad tried to teach me how to box, but it just...didn’t take. People always made fun of me for my size, and I’ve always been a target for bullies looking to hurt me because they could.”

Tora made a noise of assent to show he was following along.

“I felt like if I didn’t do something—if I didn’t learn how to at least defend myself, I would probably end up being a victim, and I didn’t want to give myself any excuse to end up being a victim just because of things I couldn’t control. So, I decided to take control and never allow myself to feel the way I did going through school ever again.” 

Tora stared at me for a long moment, before getting out of his chair, kneeling down in front of me. He studied me carefully, his hair gently blowing around his face in the morning wind. I tucked a piece of hair behind his ear as I had done when I first met him, and when I could no longer stand the silence, I asked,

“What?”

“Where have you been?” His voice sounded incredulous, and my brow furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?” I asked, touching his hand and pulling it up to my lips, pressing a kiss into his palm. He shook his head, leaning in closer, carefully, tilting his head to the side, and he waited for a moment, almost asking me for my permission.

I grabbed his shirt, closing the distance between us and kissed him, feeling a searing pain going through my jaw, but choosing to live with the pain if it meant getting to be a part of this with him. Tora placed his hands on my thighs, trying not to touch my body, hyper aware of all of the bruises and breaks and where he should and shouldn’t apply pressure.

I pressed further intensifying the kiss, sitting down on his body as he fell backward against the railing of the balcony, carefully steadying my body with his hands. Gently, he broke the kiss, moving down my neck, hands gently grazing up my back, my body shivering against the lightest of touches, and I let out a sigh feeling his tongue tracing my throat.

I rocked against him, wanting to feel him because he made me feel things I had never felt before—an unending, undying sense of excitement and danger. I gasped, feeling his hands slowly pushing my skirt up to my upper thighs, body tensing in pleasure.

“We need to slow down.” Tora sighed against my skin, his hands reaching around behind me, squeezing my upper thighs and butt.

“What? No! Why?” I whined, and he pulled back, looking at me, a devious grin on his face.

“Because as much as I would love to take you here and now on this balcony, I would not love it if I hurt you, and until you’re healed...” he said, taking his hands off my body.

“Ohhhh, that’s cruel.” I growled at him, taking his hands again and placing them firmly on my thighs where they had been before, thank you very much. Tora’s eyes flicked from me to the apartment, and back to me.

“I mean. If you insist.” Tora purred, gently setting me back on the rattan chair, hands rubbing up my body, crawling between my legs and unbuttoning the blouse, exposing the black, lacy brassiere that was constricting me way too much as far as I was concerned. 

“I would be more than happy to allow ya to take control of me yourself...but I don’t think I ever realized that ya were into voyeurism. Has that always been a kink of yours, or it is just me?” He growled.

“Voyeurism? What?” I felt confused at that, and Tora discreetly nodded his head toward the window with a grin. I glanced over to see Quincey watching us intently, his journal in his lap, nodding and vigorously taking notes. He waved a short, enthusiastic wave at me, motioning us to continue as he sat forward, completely enraptured by the situation unfolding in front of him.

“HA!” I exploded in disbelief, rushing to pull my skirt down and cover my chest up. “QUINCEY! YOU PERV!”

Quincey scrambled away from the window as I stood quickly, a wave of dizziness overtaking me as I stumbled into the apartment in time to catch Quincey bolting into his room and locking the door as I rattled the handle, banging on the door,

“Open up, perv!” I shouted.

“It was research!” Quincey whimpered. “Research! All done in the name of beautiful, sensual art!”

“Oh, I’m sure it is!” Sarcasm dripped from my voice and Tora plopped down on the couch behind me.

“Nah, he’s telling the truth. He writes dirty books for a living.” Tora said, lighting up a cigarette.

“You’re my muse, Poppy! My muse!” Quincey shouted from the other side of the door. “Tora! TORA! Don’t you DARE light up in my apartment again!”

Tora rolled his eyes, blowing out a plume of smoke, and put the cigarette out. I marched away from the door, plopping down next to Tora as the door opened partially, and Quincey poked his head out to make sure the coast was clear.

“And I do NOT write dirty books! I’m not E.L. James for Christ’s sake!” Quincey crossed his arms, offended at Tora’s explanation. 

“Then what DO you write that you need to do all your research for?” I smirked, now reveling in making fun of him.

“Well if you must know,” Quincey huffed, sticking his nose up in the air, “I write realistic fiction.”

“He writes erotica.” Tora cut him off, a hint of humor gleaming in his eyes.

“Romance!” Quincey literally stomped his foot on the floor. “I write wistful, beautiful romance.”

“Where people fuck on trains and shit.” Tora cast a sideways glance at Quincey, his lips twitching, trying not to laugh.

“And how would YOU know what he writes?” I turned my attention on Tora, whose grin suddenly disappeared.

“Because he forces me to listen to his shit.” Tora grumbled, seemingly caught in the middle with Quincey.

“It is NOT shit! It’s art!” Quincey whined, slamming the door. I leaned back against the couch as Tora pffted in silent laughter.

“So you read romance novels, huh?” I grinned slyly at him, and his eyes widened innocently yet again.

“Where do you think I learned to go down on ya like that?” He asked, and I let out a shocked cry, punching him in the arm as he burst into laughter.


	14. Sell Me This Pen

“Poppy.” His voice was warm, soft. I felt a gentle pressure next to me on the bed. I leaned into the warmth of his body, pushing myself closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his skin under my hands and legs. He gently trailed his hands up my legs, over my thighs, making circles around my leg with his fingers.

My eyes fluttered open, and I looked up at him, and in the morning light, I swear he looked just like a god. This still felt so new to me, being able to actually touch him and feel him whenever I wanted to and not just by accident or as a part of a deal.

“Vincent wants to see you today.” Tora quietly told me. I sighed, nodding at him, and pushing myself up to a sitting position, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

“Alone?” I asked him, looking over my shoulder.

“Didn’t say.” Tora responded. I nodded, and then clarified,

“When?” 

“At eleven.” He grumbled. I picked up my phone off of the nightstand, looking down at the time on the screen, seeing it was only about nine o’clock. 

“Oh, that’s plenty of time.” I said, setting the phone back down.

“I wanted to give ya time to eat breakfast and get ready without—“

I climbed on top of his body, running my hands over his stomach and his chest, rocking gently against him, effectively making Tora’s eyes go wide.

“Without—“ he stammered. I took his hands, guiding them onto my thighs, then leaned down, trailing kisses along his jawline, up toward his ear.

“Without what?” I whispered, biting his earlobe. Tora shivered at the sound of my whisper. It had been two days since the fight, and as much as I still felt sore, Tora had been good about helping most of that soreness and stiffness disappear. He showed me how to ice certain areas, apply heat to others, and was diligent about making sure I took my medications on time. He cleaned my stitches and wounds for me, and in all that time, never made me feel like I was a chore or that dealing with a girl who wasn’t necessarily familiar with all of these procedures was a nuisance. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He growled, his voice a dark, smooth shade of lust. I felt him hesitate for a moment, and I leaned back, pulling my shirt off, and said,

“I might have a few areas on my body that are still healing and a little sore.”

Tora ran his hands over my body, appreciating me, as he sat up, gently taking my hips and grinding me against him. His hands made a smooth line over my stomach up toward my breasts, and I let out a silent moan, putting my head back, as he pulled me forward, kissing my neck.

“But I can certainly think of areas on my body that are not sore, and need to be tended to even more than the rest of my body.” My voice was all but a whisper drowning in the melting heat that I felt, and I heard a dark chuckle rumbling through his body.

Tora’s hands traced the outline of my panties, fingers making their way dangerously close to one of those areas in need of attendance.

“Then what kind of man would I be,” he smiled, nipping at my neck a little, “if I didn’t make sure that your whole body was well taken care of.”

***

I buttoned up the blouse that Quincey had given me, admiring the feeling of the black silk against my skin as I tied the gauzy lavallière, thankful it could cover up the massive mark that Tora left on me a few days before. Reaching into the gift bag, I pulled out the black garters that Quincey ordered, wrapping the back garter belt around my waist, and fastening it, adjusting the straps to the correct height. Reaching inside the bag, I pulled out a set of black panty hose, putting my leg up on the bed, and pulling the thigh high hose up, admiring the lace detailing on the top, and feeling especially sexy with the dark seamed line going down the back, hooking them to the garters.

I glanced into the mirror, locking eyes with Tora, who hadn’t bothered to clothe himself yet, and who was watching me with particularly heated interest, those golden eyes smoldering into mine, as the corner of his mouth lifted into a devious smile.

“No way.” I told him, and he broke out into a full, blinding smile. “Don’t even think about it.”

“How can I not when you look like that?” He grumbled. “Besides, you can’t make me not think about ya. What else would I do with all of my spare time?”

I pulled my high waisted pencil skirt on, tucking my shirt into the skirt and adjusting it, reaching into the bag for the golden belt, which sat just at the smallest part of my waist before reaching in the bag for the last two boxes: one a pair of glossy, black Louboutin stilettos, and the other, a myriad of gold, designer jewelry, complete with a golden coin necklace, gold statement earrings, and a gold smart watch.

When I was finished dressing, blowing out my hair, and putting on my makeup, Tora hugged me from behind in his black suit and tie, hair pulled back neatly with that same strawberry barrette.

“Just remember,” I whispered, as he pulled my hips back against his groin in heated appreciation. “That it was Quincey who put this whole look together.”

Tora stopped, face twisting into an annoyed expression as he backed up, grumbling,

“Good feeling gone.”

And left the room.

***

“Poppy!” Vincent seemed absolutely delighted to see me as I headed through the double doors into his office. My eyes flicked around the office, taking in the the scene as he guided me by the small of my back across the black marble tile to a seating area in front of a window, where two black chairs and a small table waited to be used. Vincent took a seat in one of them and I took my seat in the other. Nearby, Tora took a seat on the black leather sofa, putting his feet up on the black coffee table. I glanced over at him over the ornate black, leather chaise that separated us and him, and then back to Vincent.

“Ms. Wilkes, let me start by saying how utterly impressed I was by how you handled the initiation process.” Vincent purred, smoothing his blonde hair back, those striking blue eyes boring into mine with a strange candor.

“Thank you, sir.” I murmured, keeping my guard up around him, well aware that he hadn’t brought me here simply to compliment me.

“Forgive me for saying so, but that was not how I expected things to go. You’re so small, so inexperienced...or so I thought.” He was looking for something from me, but I wasn’t sure what.

“Most people don’t, sir. Because of my size, I’m usually seen as less of a threat which, given the circumstances, puts me in a much better position for a chance of success.” I crossed my legs, placing my arms on the table, speaking earnestly with him. “In terms of probability, I’m more likely to win because I’m never taken seriously until it’s too late to do so.”

My gaze was deadpan at Vincent, and I could tell this surprised him because he nodded.

“I find that quite...advantageous.” He conceded.

“I’m a worthy asset.” I agreed, my demeanor switching into business mode. If he wasn’t going to come out and say what he was here for, then I was just going to have to do what I did best, which was business. I hadn’t come all the way to Narin City for nothing, and, crime syndicate or not, Balthuman was a powerful organization with the ability to open several doors for me.

“We’ll see about that.” Vincent coolly said. I uncrossed my legs, sitting forward in my power stance at the table. Vincent stood, heading over to his desk, and deliberating for a moment before selecting an ordinary Bic pen off of his desk. He smiled for a moment, considering his choice and then sauntered back over to me, placing the pen down on the table.

“You must think after the first phase of your initiation that the Balthuman Organization is simply just a bunch of brutes who bully people into getting what we want.” He told me, sitting down at the table, reaching beside him to grab two crystal glasses, popping open the ice bucket and depositing two cubes of ice in each glass. He reached for the decanter of whiskey, pouring that amber liquid up to three quarters of the glass. Whiskey appeared to be the Balthuman Oragnization’s drink of choice because everyone and their mother drank it, including Tora.

“But there are different facets of this organization. It’s true that we have the forceful way of doing things, but then again, what kind of organization would I be if I didn’t actually know how to do business. After all, that’s my specialty, and I damned good at it.” He monologued.

“One thing I pride myself on is researching my candidates and their specialties. Take Tora for instance,” he motioned in Tora’s direction with his glass. “Tora is a strong boy. Intimidating. He’s efficient at using brute strength to give a gentle, shall we say, push in the right direction. Not only that, but he’s an expert marksman.

“Scharch, whom you met during initiation, takes pleasure in violence, but specializes in finances. He turns a hell of a profit for this company, although his means of doing so might be less than kosher.

“And then there’s you, Poppy.” Vincent leaned forward, toward me. “You left a small town to come to the big city in search of a career, a life in business. You started at a small company, Goldfish Company, and got your first big client in Mr. Lam. When my men tried to take your client from you, you fought back in your own way. You chased him down, not caring about the dangers in your way, clearly putting yourself in harms way to get to him, but it wasn’t only for business was it?”

That question caught me off guard for a moment, and that confident mask slipped out of place, before I caught myself.

“No. It was about morality. What’s right and wrong. You knew Lam was in danger, and you put yourself in the line of fire to make sure he was safe, effectively gaining his trust, and solidifying the deal with him even at your own detriment because that’s how Yamamoto ended up catching you, isn’t it?”

I leaned back, immediately feeling uncomfortable. He was playing head games with me, marauding to trigger that point of weakness so he could catch me off guard.

“Yes. Mr. Lam offered to meet you that night. He said he would sign those papers for you as a deal. He asked you to meet him at the conference center again because he had urgent business there. But it wasn’t Mr. Lam you were talking to. It was Yamamoto’s men. Lam was long dead, his assets taken over by Yamamoto who had gotten to him before you did. And you went willingly.” He found humor in this, seemingly toying with me, making me feel less than so he could take advantage of me.

“Mr. Balthuman.” My voice was steady, and I felt that anger welling up in me because once again, I was being underestimated by someone who hid behind his guns and strongmen. Once again, I was being made to feel like a fool for the mistakes of my past, and once again, just like the others had, I was going to take what rightfully belonged to me out from under him because he didn’t see me as a threat. Wrong move.

“I did my research on you too.” I told him. Balthuman’s smile faded slowly away. “You started out as a young man selling magazines in the streets of Brooklyn. You were smaller then, like I was, so when you were approached by thugs with a better deal, a life of crime for better pay and protection, you took it. You became a drug mule.”

Balthuman’s face betrayed no emotions on the surface, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that I had just tipped the balances, sowing a seed of doubt into his mind.

“That job worked out fine for you for a while. You ran the drugs, undetected because you were a shrimp of a kid just like I was, who slid in and out of businesses without being noticed, delivering a variety of goods where the drugs were hidden, and you almost got away with it...until someone finally noticed.” I told him.

“The thing about rats in the city, is people are only used to them showing up in the same places, following the same patterns—they’re easier to kill that way. But when a rat slips out of the routine, well that’s uncomfortable for anyone because then the entire population of rats becomes a problem. They’re unpredictable and need to be dealt with before they influence the rest of the populations or spread that mutated gene.

“So, they followed you, saw what you were doing, and framed you. They spread word that you were double timing, and that protection that you once had was gone, replaced by doubt and suspicion. You became the problem with the organization, and problems must be dealt with.

“But you, Mr. Balthuman. You were smarter than that. You figured out the play, and you dealt with them before they dealt with you. Not only that, but you built a following by spreading your own rumors within the organization, so by the time you made your move, the empire had already collapsed from within. 

“You took that little magazine stand and left Brooklyn, heading for Narin City to turn it into a big organization. From there, you invested in business and found your passion. You promised that same safety you had been promised, but that safety didn’t come without a price because nothing in life comes without a price, does it, Mr. Balthuman?”

***

Tora damn near rolled over dead in shock listening to Poppy lay Balthuman’s shit out bare. He sat forward in tense interest, listening to the conversation take place and watching Balthuman, who had been so smug, trying to debilitate her by bringing her face to face with her biggest mistakes, becomes suddenly incapacitated and frankly, buried and burned by her retaliation. 

“Because nothing in life comes without a price, does it, Mr. Balthuman?” He heard Poppy ask, strength and confidence reinforcing her points. Vincent sagged back into his chair, and Poppy gently leaned back, taking the whiskey, and sipping it as the two of them sat in silence for what felt like forever. Tora felt a sense of unease and a thick tension filling up the room, and he worried about how Vincent would retaliate. Poppy set the whiskey glass down, and sat forward once more, crossing her arms on the table before saying,

“You told me once that you love a candidate who is eager to join. I have done my research, and I appreciate and admire your history.”

Vincent seemed to snap out of his shocked state, reaching for his drink before breathing out a simple,

“Yes.”

“How can I assist you in strengthening your organization further?” Poppy asked him directly, and Tora knew that she was in for a world of rewards when he got her back home for tonight.

“I’m so glad you asked.” Vincent smiled, clearing his throat and returning back to his normal state. He pushed the pen he had set on the table earlier toward Poppy. “It’s very simple. A good businessman, or woman in your case, can sell anything and everything. So, Miss Poppylan, sell me this pen.”

“Okay.” Poppy took the pen, opening her mouth to launch into her spiel.

“Now wait just a minute.” Vincent smiled, standing with his whiskey and rounding the table to stand next Poppy. He gently set the glass of whiskey down, and in one quick move, yanked Poppy back by her hair, slamming her head into the chair, produced a pistol from his suit jacket, and jabbed it into her temple.

“Now,” he purred, clicking the safety off of the gun, grabbing Poppy by her jaw, and jerking her chin up to force her to look into his eyes. “Sell me. This fucking. Pen.”


	15. Sell Me This Pen (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for sticking with me. I appreciate all of you so much!

“Oh fuck.” Was the first thought that entered my mind, and I was a little surprised at myself because fuck wasn’t typically a word in my vocabulary. Now, because I had been around Tora for so long, it had become a noun, adjective, verb, adverb, and, at this point, an exclamatory phrase. What’s more, it had become an essential phrase for moments just like this. 

“I’ve overstepped my bounds.” I thought, panic starting to ease its way into my rapidly beating heart.

“No. No you haven’t.” My sub-conscience retaliated. “Balthuman runs a different kind of organization. He thrives on pressure, and he wants to see how you do under pressure.”

Tora’s eyes were wide as he gripped the edges of the sofa he sat on, ready to launch himself at Balthuman, and I gave a subtle shake of the head. Slowly, he sat back, his jaw set in worry. I reached out, steadied my nerves, swallowed hard, and took the pen, twirling it between my fingers with an easy confidence.

“When was the last time you used a pen?” I asked, steadying my voice. Balthuman seemingly unimpressed with this question, laughed at me incredulously.

“Just this morning, Miss Wilkes.” Sarcasm and humor wrapped themselves around each of the syllables in his voice. He still wasn’t taking me seriously.

“Do you remember what kind of pen it was?” I pressed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tora smooth his hair back, not impressed with the direction this conversation was going.

“I don’t. Just a regular pen. Much like this one I would assume.” He pulled the pistol away from my head, examining it in a bored fashion.

“Then, do you remember why you were using it?” I asked. Balthuman considered this question for a moment, and replied,

“I was signing business mergers.”

I made a noise of assent, my hand moving up toward the gun, and I looked Vincent in the eyes, pushing the gun out of my face, as I stood up. I’m pretty sure that when I did this, I saw Tora jump for a moment, having a mini-heart attack at the sight of me pushing a loaded and ready gun out of my face.

“I’d say that signing those mergers into existence is one of the things that has created this powerful empire that you’ve made. After all, what’s a business without contracts that are beneficial for everyone? But what’s more, what’s a business without contracts that are beneficial for you? Contracts that sever ties with weaker businesses, cutting off the dead weight and mending iron bonds with more capable businesses, who have the potential to bring in more money that can provide all of these wonderful things and all of these wonderful people for your business.” I stopped at Vincent’s desk, my back turned to Vincent to project confidence and eliminate any chance he might still feel like I was afraid of him. I ran my hands over his desk, fingers touching, grazing across the dark wood surface, and then turning over my shoulder to continue,

“Contracts...mergers...well, they’re the life blood of a business. Being able to sign those documents is vital to the continued success of the business. Don’t you agree?” I paced around him, a predator searching for weakness in her prey, and he kept his eyes on me, his face shifting its expression to show a sudden interest in what I was saying.

“I do.” Vincent sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“Then shouldn’t it be treated like an important part of the business?” I moved in to make my pitch, heading back to the table and grabbing the pen. “If it wasn’t for this pen, you wouldn’t have the successes that you have now. Your business never would have lifted off without your signature across those pages giving it the permission to do so.

“And I’m not talking about the other pens. The ones you use to scratch your head or because you couldn’t find that golden fountain pen you’ve had before. It’s not the one pen you use when you leave a dear John letter for your lovers. No, this pen. Well, it really should be the symbol of your company.”

“And why is that, Miss Wilkes?” Balthuman’s voice was soft, impressed even.

“Because when you use the right tool,” I told him, standing in front of him, and presenting the pen to him, “you associate it with success and productivity and it gives you that last little push you need to sign more of those necessary actions into motion.”

Balthuman reached out to take the pen, but I pulled it away from him, putting it to my lips, and saying,

“I should let you know, that sales for this particular kind of pen have been aggressive this month. In fact, our warehouses are saying that it’s likely we won’t have any stock of this pen left by the end of this week. As it stands, we probably won’t have any left for the next few months, and after checking with my team, I actually don’t have any stock of this pen left at all.”

I turned away from him, tapping the pen against my arm, leaning against his desk as he followed me with sincere interest.

“However,” I pressed on, “I knew I would be coming to speak with you today. Like I told you, I did my research on you. I know you’re a smart man, driven by success and fueled by this hunger to succeed.”

I stood in front of him, kneeling down, holding out the pen to him again.

“Fortunately for you, this is the last pen that I have, and I want you to have it.”

Balthuman took the pen, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Try it out.” I suggested. “In the unlikely event that you hate this pen and it doesn’t work out for you, call me, and I’ll personally come back to grab it from you at no additional cost you.”

Vincent’s mouth slowly spread into a devious grin.

“So, Mr. Balthuman. What do you say? Will you buy this pen?”

“Honestly,” Vincent grinned, twirling the pen in his fingers. “I don’t really use pens that often. Most of our business is done electronically.”

“Oh.” I shrugged coolly, plucking the pen from his fingers. “Then if that’s the case. Have a wonderful day, Mr. Balthuman.”

“Ms. Wilkes.” Vincent sighed. “The name of the game was ‘Sell Me This Pen.’ You didn’t sell this pen to me.”

He pointed the pistol at me again, and I smiled.

“No, you’re right. I may not have sold it to you because you’re not in the market for a pen. It’s not my job to sell to someone who has no use or need for this tool.” I told him, and I glanced over my shoulder at Tora, who raised his eyebrows at me. I turned, despite a gun being pointed at my back and sat down in Tora’s lap. “But that doesn’t mean that there won’t be others out there who do have a need for this tool.”

Tora seemed absolutely clueless as to what to do. He wasn’t sure where to put his hands or if he should or could touch me in Vincent’s presence. I almost fell out of character glancing at the panicked look on his face.

“What do you say, Tora?” I asked him, gently tracing the capped pen across his jaw. “When was the last time that you used a pen?”

Out of nowhere, Vincent stood quickly and broke into applause, startling both Tora and I to the point that Tora pushed me off of his lap and I fell onto the floor face first.

“Ah fuck.” Tora grumbled, helping me up, and if looks could kill, that man would be brutally injured because I couldn’t stand to do this life without him.

“Very well done, Miss Wilkes.” Vincent laughed, putting the safety of the gun back on. He approached me, saying,

“You are the perfect asset for my team. Good god! Look at her, Tora! It’s no wonder you are so enraptured by her.”

Tora shifted uncomfortably, fumbling with the buttons on his jacket.

“She’s all power wrapped up in this little package...like a tiny—well, a tiny—“

“Hamster?” Tora finished his sentence. Vincent looked utterly confused at this comparison and I shot another lethal glance at him.

“Well, I can see I made the right decision asking you to join. With the combination of you and Tora, I’m sure we will be a force of nature.” The glee in his voice was completely apparent as he looked over at Tora.

“Thank you, sir.” I smiled. “I’m so glad you think so.”

Vincent extended his hand out to me, and I took it. He shook my hand vigorously, and motioned over to the two chairs in front of his desk.

“Now, Tora, if you’ll leave us, I’m going to talk business with Miss Wilkes.” Vincent said. Tora looked over at him, his mouth a hard, grim line, and then he looked down at me. I nodded, and reluctantly, he backed out of the room, shutting the door quietly. We both knew that there was more to this than what Vincent was saying, and he was finally ready to reveal his hand.

Vincent seated himself down in his plush leather chair, rolling forward, hands clasped together.

“Poppylan,” Vincent crowed, “I’ve had high hopes for you for quite some time, and I must say, you didn’t disappoint.”

“Thank you, sir.” I said.

“But I must know,” Balthuman continued, “do you love Tora?”

The question caught me completely off guard, as many of Balthuman’s sudden prying questions seemed to do. I considered telling him it was none of his business, but I didn’t think saying that to someone like Balthuman would end well.

“Yes.” I told him confidently.

“And you would do anything to keep him safe?” Balthuman pressed, and a sick feeling spread through my stomach again. I could tell where this was going.

“I would.” I breathed.

“Then let me make this clear,” he sat back in his chair, rummaging around his desk, and producing a black, leather portfolio, “I’m going to offer you a job with the Balthuman Organization. I’m going to provide you with several legitimate opportunities to prove your worth in this business, which I have no doubt you will do, and I’ll make you a very wealthy woman. You, in turn, will simply do whatever I ask, when I ask, and how I ask without pressing me further. If you don’t, if you disobey me, well, there won’t be any consequences for you.”

My face contorted in confusion and Balthuman smiled gently.

“I don’t hurt women. It’s one of the many reasons why I don’t typically ask women to join this organization. I can’t keep them in line the same way I keep my men in line. It’s utterly against my beliefs.” He told me. “Rest assured, your initiation is the last and only time I will allow anyone from this organization to lay a hand on you...unless you ask them to, of course. I don’t pry into personal affairs or special pleasures. If I find out anyone has done so otherwise, I’ll kill them myself.

“So hear me when I say, your mistakes won’t hurt you, but they will hurt him...and they will hurt him badly.” Vincent explained, and I felt a simple hatred bubbling up inside of my body, my brows furrowing in frustration. Vincent stood, coming around the desk, putting his hands on the arms of the chair I was sitting in and leaning into my face.

“You might think that Tora can take care of himself, that he wouldn’t allow someone to hurt him, but, little Poppy, I raised him. He’s mine. I own him. And just like any other working dog who disobeys his owner, he must be punished.

“I already know that he loves you, and you’ve made it clear that you are very persuasive when you want to be. If you turn him against me or attempt to get him to go against my wishes, Tora will become useless to me, and the moment that you make him useless to me, I will put him down like the dog that he is, and I will bring this whole organization down on your head.” 

I could feel my heart beating a thousand beats a second, my eyes wide, feeling effectively put in my place. I finally understood the game that Vincent Balthuman was playing, and I had to hand it to him, he played the game like a pro.

Vincent leaned away from me, smoothing his hair back. He walked over to the sitting area where Tora had been sitting and retrieved the pen I had dropped on the floor before heading back to his desk, opening the leather portfolio, and pushing it toward me.

“Now then, Ms. Wilkes. It appears I may need that pen after all.” He smiled coolly, placing the pen down on the contract within the leather portfolio. “I want to extend you this exciting opportunity to officially join the Balthuman Organization.”

“In fact,” Vincent sighed, “I can think of nothing that I would love more, and I would just be absolutely devastated if you chose not to join. There’s no telling what I might do in my state of absolute distress if I lost such a capable candidate as you.”

I glared at Vincent, looking him straight in his eyes. There’s nothing Vincent may have wanted more than to have me in his organization, but right now, in the heat of this moment, there I wanted more at this moment than to grab that decanter of whiskey and smash it over his head. I wanted to see him suffer and bleed in my presence and to take him down for simply mentioning that he would lay a finger on Tora, and to take special pleasure in watching him suffer and beg me not to. 

I felt my eyebrows fly up in shock. I couldn’t believe that I was having these thoughts about him. I had never wanted to kill someone—really and truly take someone’s life away from them, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment in myself. Who was I becoming?

I settled my anger down, sat forward, took the pen in my hands, and signed my life away to the Balthuman Organization.


	16. Coming to Terms (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I finished this chapter early, so I thought, why not post it? A few things to know about this chapter:
> 
> 1\. NSFW
> 
> 2\. The emotional effects of Vincent’s mind games are going to be on full display in these next few chapters. As much as I love a kick ass, strong, and domineering Poppy, it wouldn’t be realistic to expect a person to just be like, “This is fine.” 
> 
> 3\. Don’t worry. Awesome, amazing, strong and kick ass Poppy will return. She just needs a meltdown or two, okay?

I opened the double doors quietly, my legs shaking from a mix of anger and tension, and stepped out of the door, closing it quietly. From there, I walked, no, practically ran toward the building’s exit, feeling the anger, resentment, and frustration threatening to burst out of my body, and I had to get out of the building before I made a fool of myself on the premises.

Tora who had been waiting next to the door with his arms crossed, pushed himself off of the wall, rushing to keep up with me, saying,

“Slow down, Poppy!”

I pushed past the security of the building, who almost stopped me, but upon seeing Tora rushing after me, backed out of the way, and I burst through the doors, making a beeline toward an empty alley, Tora running closely behind me.

I tore off my shoes, throwing them as hard as I could, took a deep breath, and using every single muscle in my body, lurched forward, screaming a loud, drawn out,

“FUCK!”

Once I ran out of breath and the explosive anger had finally left my body with the final consonant of my new favorite word, I put my hands on my hips, taking deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth, before heading over to collect my shoes that I had thrown across the alley.

I turned back around, facing Tora, who stared at me in shocked, but wary interest. Quietly, I slipped my shoes on, approaching Tora, who uncrossed his arms, unsure of what I was going to do.

“Can we please go get a drink...or ten?” I asked sweetly, walking past him toward his car as his eyes followed me in utter confusion. After standing for a moment, trying to understand what the hell just happened, Tora followed me to the car, opening the door for me as I slid in.

“Do ya wanna talk about it?” He asked me uncertainly, pulling his seatbelt across his body. I glanced over at him, and then down at my hands in my lap.

“No.” I told him.

“Alright.” He said, turning on the car, and taking us to go get a drink—or ten.

***

Tora struggled with the idea that Vincent had done something to upset Poppy, and she wouldn’t share it with him, but the last thing he wanted to do was push her to share anything she didn’t want to. It disturbed him even more to see Poppy acting like absolutely nothing was wrong—like she hadn’t just violently thrown her shoes off in the middle of an alley and screamed an extended fuck at the top of her lungs much to his absolute delight at hearing her use his favorite word so shamelessly. He wondered what buttons he would need to use to get her to use that word more often in front of him.

This Poppy that he was seeing in front of him now, however, seemed so cool, calm, and collected as she sweetly ordered a cocktail from the server and handed the menu back to him. He wondered what sort of emotions were boiling underneath the surface. Both Poppy and the server turned to Tora, who simply said,

“A whiskey...on the rocks.”

The server scurried away, and Tora folded his hands, sitting forward, his eyes searing into Poppy’s. Poppy shifted in her seat uncomfortably, saying,

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do I need an excuse to look at you?” Tora asked. Poppy bit her lip and shook her head as the server returned, setting both of the drinks down and heading off. Tora took a sip of his drink, savoring the flavor, setting it down, looking up to see that Poppy had already completely finished her drink. He looked from the drink to Poppy, back down at the drink, then back up to Poppy.

“I was thirsty.” Poppy squeaked, sensing the judgement in Tora’s expression. Tora raised his hand briefly and the server reappeared next to him.

“I need another one of those.” Tora told him. The server looked over at Poppy, and his eyes widened, shocked himself at how fast she finished the drink. He nodded with a quick,

“Yes, sir.”

And disappeared.

“If ya keep drinking that way, I’ll be carrying ya out of here and holding ya hair back while you puke. That’s not the way I was hoping to spend tonight with you.” Tora chided her gently. Poppy looked down at the empty glass, and nodded. Soon enough, the server returned, taking the empty glass, and replacing it with a new cocktail.

Tora picked up his whiskey and sipped it, glancing around the bar. Poppy lifted her drink, sipping it as well. She took note of what Tora was doing and looked around the establishment herself. It really was a breathtaking place. The server, knowing who Tora was, had led the two of them up to a balcony that overlooked the restaurant, it’s black wrought iron railing ornately contrasting against the marble white flooring, which glittered against the dim lighting. 

Around the room, bare trees were scattered around the floor, making the room feel like a winter scene from the Chronicles of Narnia, dim blue lighting filling the room with a chilled ambience, candles hanging from votives in the trees, marble tables and cushioned white chairs scattered around the bar, topped off with an extraordinarily large bar that looked as if it had seemingly been carved out of a block of ice. The focal point of the room, however, was a large, frozen over waterfall surrounded by candles, some at the base in what would have been the pool of the fall, some flickering within the ice itself.

Her lips curved into a gentle smile, appreciating the scenery, and she turned back to Tora, finding him studying her carefully as his lips curved into a gentle smile.

“It’s beautiful here.” Poppy told him breathlessly.

“I thought ya might like it.” He told her. “Vincent does have good taste when it comes to places he chooses to invest in.”

Poppy’s expression suddenly went sour, and she nodded in bitter agreement, suddenly finding herself enveloped in her thoughts at the mention of Vincent’s name. Tora finished off his whiskey, pushed his chair back, left money on the table to pay the bill, and held his hand out for Poppy to take, saying,

“Let’s go.”

“But we just got here.” Poppy protested.

“Yeah. And I’m saying let’s leave.” Tora told her. Poppy stood, taking his hand and following him out of the bar and through a set of double doors into a white marble lobby. It was then that Poppy realized that they were in a hotel, and, judging by the way that the well dressed men and women in the lobby were sauntering along, the hotel was clearly for the wealthy. Tora headed to the front desk, where he was greeted by a gentleman dressed in a cleanly pressed suit,

“Tora. It’s good to see you again.”

The gentleman’s eyes flicked over to Poppy, and he smiled, saying,

“And your lovely date as well.”

Tora nodded, producing a card from his pocket and handing it to the gentleman, who nodded, asking,

“The usual, sir?”

****

“You must come here often.” I grumbled, crossing my arms, and Tora cast a sharp look over his shoulder at me, obviously more than aware of what I was insinuating. Even the gentleman looked over at me, a little surprised and somewhat perturbed at my bratty statement. 

Tora turned back, taking the card, and saying,

“We’ll only be staying tonight.”

“Very well then, sir.” The gentleman smiled, before adding, “It’s lovely to see that you have a young lady with you this time, considering that you usually come alone. I hope she enjoys the suite as much as I know you do.”

And immediately I felt like a complete asshole. Tora nodded, and walked past me toward the elevators, as I followed, scurrying to keep up with him.

***

As soon as the door to the hotel room closed, Tora unbuttoned his jacket, shrugging it off and hanging it on the back of the chair, and turned toward me, rolling up his sleeves and putting his hands on his hips.

“Well, now that you’ve made it clear what ya think of me, maybe you can finally tell me what’s really bothering ya.” Tora pressed. I stood, frozen in place, feeling like a complete jerk for my performance in the lobby and unsure of how to proceed when I had already made a mess of things.

“I—I’m sorry.” I told him, pulling at a strand of my hair nervously.

“I didn’t ask ya for an apology.” He told me, approaching me with an annoyed haste. “I asked ya to tell me why you’re acting this way.”

I glared up at Tora, stepping closer to him, and biting back,

“And if I don’t want to explain myself?”

Tora cast a second angry glance down at me, a sneer forming on his lips as he turned away from me, loosening his tie, and pulling it off, flinging it onto the heavy wooden table in unabashed frustration, putting his hands on his hips and whirling around on me again.

“Then don’t, but if ya not going to tell me, then don’t take it out on me. Because it feels like I’m the only one here that gives a fuck about you when you don’t even give a fuck about yourself.” He growled.

“What makes you think I don’t care about myself?” I crossed my arms haughtily. Tora threw his arms up in frustration, and hissed,

“Oh, I don’t know, Poppy. Maybe how ya talk to Vincent fucking Balthuman like he’s not really going to kill ya when ya speak to him like he’s an idiot, or how ya pushed a loaded and ready gun away from ya fucking head like he won’t pull the trigger.

“Or let’s go back to initiation—stepping up to Ramsey fucking Baker like he won’t take ya down and knock ya ass out like he said he would just because you’re a girl.”

Tora was pacing by this point, fuming at me.

“Jesus Christ, Poppy! Do you know what it’s been like watching ya get beaten to a pulp? To have to carry ya out of that warehouse, bleeding and broken and worry about what sort of damage that fucker did to you? Or how about what it feels like to spend every second in Vincent’s office praying I wasn’t going to have to watch ya brain get splattered against the wall?”

Tora paced forward, taking my face in his hands, the desperation and anger flushing his face and setting his eyes on fire.

“Or how about this: do you know what it feels like to lay next to ya at night, listening to ya struggle to breathe, worrying about whether or not I’m gonna wake up and find ya dead in the morning? What it feels like to spend everyday hoping that the next part of initiation isn’t the one that kills you?

“And in all this time, I haven’t asked you for jack shit. I’ve been ya punching bag, ya doctor, ya friend, ya lover—and granted, I was all these things willingly for ya. 

“I’ve been there for ya to pick up the pieces even when ya pushed me away. And all I’m asking you to do is fucking tell me what’s going on with ya, and ya can’t even give me that?” He was nearly shouting out of frustration at this point, shaking my face in his hands. He backed away from me, rubbing his hands over his face before placing them on his hips again, sighing and putting his head down.

“I would kill every single person in this organization if it meant that you would be safe. I would throw myself in front of a bullet or a fist for ya, and I would gladly take ya place if I had the choice just so ya never had to be a part of this.” He turned back around to face me. 

“I never asked you to do that.” I told him, beginning to feel like my presence was more of a task for him. “And if it’s so much of a bother, why do you do it?”

“You know, everyday I ask myself: why am I doing this? Why am I feeling this way? Why can’t I just let it go? Why can’t I just let you go, and then I wouldn’t have to feel this fucking way?” And there is was. He had said it—the thought that had probably crossed both of our minds at one point or another. Why can’t I just let you go?

He was justified in being angry in everything that he said, and every word that he spoke was true, but damn if that last bit didn’t sting a lot more than I had expected.

“Why don’t you then, Tora?” I pressed, firing back out of pain. “Why don’t you just let me go? Clearly I’m not making things easy on you.”

“Why don’t I?” Tora growled incredulously. “Because I fucking love you, Poppy!”

Those words echoed throughout the room, and I felt all of the anger, hatred, and pent up aggression vanish into thin air with the last sounds of my name. It was the first time he had ever told me he loved me.

I felt tears pricking in my eyes looking at this man in front of me, who I had effectively hurt multiple times throughout my initiation process and not thought twice about. I had been selfish, childish, angry, and cruel, and he had stood back, choosing to support me anyway.

I threw myself forward at him, startling him as I did so, pushing him back onto the bed. I straddled his lap, crushing my lips to his, tangling my fingers in his hair as the tears began to flow down my face.

“I’m sorry.” I breathed through heated kisses. “I didn’t mean it.”

Tora untied the bow from around my neck, setting to work on the buttons on my blouse, as I went to work on his shirt. He stood up, forcing me to stand as well as he worked his way down my blouse, pulling it off, and tossing it onto the floor. This time, there was no foreplay. It wasn’t sweet or passionate like you see in the movies.

There was a raw, primal sensation—a hunger and need to be as close to him as I possibly could, to feel him and know he was alive, buzzing with life and lust the way that I was. 

He yanked my skirt down, exposing the lace garters and black lacy bra and panty set. He then set about reaching into his pants pocket, pulling out that silver foil, unbuttoning his pants, pulling them off and throwing them out of the way, useless. He ripped the package open, putting the condom on.

Tora whirled me around, pushing me down onto the bed, and, without waiting, grabbed my hips and slammed into me, letting out a primordial growl of satisfaction. He wasted no time pounding into me again and again, his pace ruthless and unforgiving. The sensation was brilliant, electrifying and I threw my head back, feeling every bit of that anger and frustration as he thrust into me over and over. Tora grabbed my hair, pulling me against his body, his hands traveling up my body, slipping underneath the bra and kneading my nipples.

“O—oh—oh my god.” I gasped and Tora let out a heated moan in return. 

“You. Are. Such. An. Infuriating. Woman.” Tora thrust hard with each word, biting my earlobe at the last word, kissing and sucking at my neck.

“Is that so?” I whispered, and I whirled on him, pushing him down on the bed, crawling up his body, and settling down over him, feeling him enter my body at my pace, painfully, gleefully, terrifically slow.

“You want to talk about feelings?” I asked him, riding him slowly at first, and then increasing the pace, mercilessly bucking against him as he threw his head back. 

“Tell me.” I hissed, feeling Tora’s fingers dig into my hips and he let out a groan against me. “How does this feel?”

I slowed my pace for a moment, wanting to feel him. He laced his fingers in mine, pulling me down on top of him, lifting his hips and beginning a new pace, thrusting into me.

“Always in control.” He whispered teasingly. The pace that he kept with me and the angle that he was taking me told me that he wanted me to climax. He sat up, putting his hands under my hips, lifting me up to continue his pace, and I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him, throwing him off guard.

He attacked my mouth with a hunger, as I lifted up and sank down over him, picking up the pace. I wanted this for him—to give him one of the few things I could give him right now.

“Slow down.” He breathed, his body reacting to mine, as he tried to slow my hips down. I could feel his body tensing up, as he fought the orgasm back. I gently guided him back, leaned down, trailing kisses on his neck to his ears, whispered,

“No.”

And increased the pace, furiously riding him, and that was all it took to send him over the edge with a heated growl, his fingernails digging into my hips as he threw his head back, hands flying up, grasping the pillow hard.

I smiled down at him in satisfaction, revering in the beauty of a post coital Tora as I gently got off of him, lying on his chest. We lay together, slowing our breathing down in silence.

Tora absentmindedly toyed with a strand of my hair, before he said,

“Tell me, Poppy. Tell me what’s going on.”

I sighed, gathering my courage. 

“If I tell you,” I started, “everything between us and between you and Vincent is going to change. Are you sure you really want that, Tora?”

He thought for a moment considering his options, and then quietly responded,

“Yes.”

And so, I began,

“When I met with Vincent today, he offered me a job.”

Tora propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at me as I spoke to him. I reached up, taking a strand of his hair between my fingers, stroking it absentmindedly.

“He told me that he has this policy about not hurting women, and said that I could do anything I wanted without any sort of punishment myself, but he threatened to hurt you.” I explained, and once again, I felt those hot tears burning my eyes as I tried to push down those emotions. My hands began to shake and Tora, upon seeing this, took that shaking hand and held it, pressing it to his lips.

“If I did something wrong or overstepped my bounds, he would come after you.” I told Tora. “And he told me that if I overstepped too far, he would...he—he said he would put you down like a dog.”

Tora’s brows furrowed in anger hearing what Vincent had promised, and the tears of frustration and fear that I had been holding in burst forth. I felt psychotic—all these mood swings triggering those extreme emotions from anger to pain to sadness—I had felt them all at their extremities in a matter of hours.

“I just—“ I pressed, needing him to understand where my bitterness was stemming from, “The amount of pressure that I feel knowing that every misstep I make could hurt you...it kills me. How can I work for someone like that? I don’t know how I can even function under him because I have this debilitating fear of it hurting you, and I can’t stand it.

“I know my behavior today has been unforgivable, but I feel like I’m going crazy trying to figure out how I’m going to do this, and how I can possibly live with myself if I end up getting you hurt...or...or worse.” 

***

Tora shook his head, seemingly connecting all of the dots together, realizing Vincent had made a huge power play, and it absolutely infuriated him that he hadn’t realized what was going on ahead of time. This ploy about protecting Poppy—it was never about protection. It was about control. Balthuman had effectively leashed and muzzled his dogs by dangling a treat out in front of them, by promising them safety and security, and just like Balthuman before them, they had gone willingly.

“I need a shower.” Tora grumbled, throwing the blankets back. Poppy sat up, an immense feeling of dejection and loneliness overcoming her as she found herself in the position Tora had been in since their journey began.

Tora turned the light on in the bathroom, turned the shower on, and, without a single glance in her direction, shut Poppy out.


	17. Coming to Terms (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys...I wrestled with trying to put italics in the lyrics that are sprinkled throughout this chapter for over an hour. It DID NOT go well.
> 
> Instead, I put breaks in where the lyrics were so it didn’t throw anything off.
> 
> If you want to listen to what Poppy hears in Ice Bar, it’s the Jack and White version of “How’s It Gonna Be.” I do love me the Third Eye Blind version of this, but I felt like the Jack and White version fit so much better.
> 
> Enjoy!

The sudden darkness in the room from the closed door felt cold and bitter, and the somber sentiment of loneliness settled into the empty bed, filling the void between Poppy and Tora that the closed bathroom door reinforced.

Poppy wasn’t used to him turning away from her like that, and she wondered what she should do. It was clear that had he wanted her company, he wouldn’t have walked away the way he did, and so, Poppy picked up the pieces of herself and fit them back together as best as she could, getting out of bed, and getting dressed.

The sudden whiplash of emotions she just felt—from resentful to calm to angry to loving right back to that pained antagonism— left her feeling disoriented and a bit shell shocked. She grabbed the hotel key and her credit card, leaving her phone on the nightstand, and headed out of the room. Despite what she felt, if it was space he needed, she intended to give it to him no matter how much she wanted to stay and try to sort things out with him.

She passed through the lobby in a daze, suddenly catching sight of the gentleman who was quietly at work at the front desk. Poppy sighed, making her way over to him. He looked up from his work with a genuine smile that suddenly became strained upon seeing her.

“I was here earlier—w—with Tora?” She stammered, feeling immeasurably uncomfortable.

“Yes, I remember.” The gentleman tried to remain unbiased and professional, but Poppy could tell from the look on his face that he tried to hide that he wasn’t fond of her.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier— for making assumptions. It was wrong of me.” She told him and he seemed startled at that admission.

“No, ma’am. There’s no need to apologize to me. I was out of line when I talked about a close patron’s information like that, disclosing it without permission. It wasn’t my place.” He bowed slightly in apology.

“Tora is a good man. I know you see that. We wouldn’t be human if we didn’t defend the things we care about, would we?” Poppy smiled at him, and his face softened hearing this.

“No ma’am. We wouldn’t.” His voice was soft. 

“Tora may call down looking for me.” She told the gentleman. “If he does, could you please tell him I’m in the Ice Bar?”

“Certainly, miss.” The gentleman nodded.

“My name is Poppy if he asks for me by name.” She told him, and he nodded, taking note of her name and location. Poppy headed back inside the Ice Bar which had become a lot busier since she and Tora left, the night crowd breathing life and zeal into the atmosphere. Several of the tables near the waterfall had been taken away to make room for a dance floor, where couples danced to the heartbeat of the music thrumming through the bar.

Poppy glanced up at the balcony where she saw Lang sitting expressionless with women on all sides of him, a few other men that she didn’t recognize joining them. Lang glanced down, seemingly feeling Poppy’s gaze, and he nodded at her subtly. She nodded back, finding an empty seat at the bar.

“Good evening.” Poppy heard, and she turned her attention to the bar tender, a guy with shaggy reddish hair and a dark beard, an earring adorning his left lobe. Poppy glanced down at his name tag: Gyu.

“Something sweet and strong.” Poppy told Gyu.

He smiled and went to work creating a martini. When he finished, setting it on the bar, Poppy lifted it up, admiring the neon blue and pink colors swirling and colliding with each other within the triangular glass. 

“It’s a Sweetartini.” He grinned, proud of his concoction. He had even included Sweetarts wedged between two lemons as a garnish, situated against the pink sugared rim.

“It’s pretty.” Poppy smiled, turning her grin to Gyu, who smiled at her in appreciation. 

Poppy handed her card off to Gyu, who took it and started a tab. Poppy sipped on the drink, which really did taste like Sweetarts, taking in the bar crowd, enjoying the chilled vibe.

Next to her, she saw a dark shadow slip into the open bar seat. She glanced over at the stranger who sat next to her, and to her shock, saw Lang sitting there.

For a moment, Poppy simply tried to ignore him, before curiosity got the better of her.

“Mr. Lang.” She greeted him.

“Poppy.” He grumbled back. Gyu placed a neon green shot down on the bar in front of Lang, and he tilted his head back, taking it. “I hear that Balthuman officially offered you a spot in the organization.”

“He did.” Poppy assented, trying to gauge what Lang was looking for.

“In the business sector, no less.” Lang pressed.

“It seems that way.” Poppy responded.

“Then, you’ll be working with Scharch.” Lang told her. Poppy felt a cold fist seize her heart hearing his name again. She nodded, and Gyu placed a beer in front of Lang, who took it, sipping it.

“Watch yourself around him.” Lang warned her. “I probably don’t need to tell you this after your encounter with him, but he’s manipulative and dangerous. He gets what he wants from people by hurting them in every sense of the word.”

“You sound like you have personal experience with him.” Poppy pushed for more information.

“Maybe I do.” Lang said. “Or maybe I‘ve just seen what he does to other people. Either way, consider yourself warned.”

Poppy nodded in thanks. Lang paused for a second, conflicting thoughts going through his mind, and he rummaged through his pocket, setting a red pill down on the bar.

“The first couple of weeks are always the worst. After that, you settle in. Keep your head down and follow directions. You’ll be fine.”

And at that, Lang left Poppy to her own devices. Poppy had heard Balthuman say that Scharch was into finances, but it hadn’t really clicked with her until now that that meant not only would she have to watch her behavior to protect Tora, but now she had to worry about that psychopath Scharch too. Things just became one hundred times more complicated.

Poppy let out a heavy sigh and put her head in her hands, and all the little pieces of herself that she had haphazardly mended together as she left the hotel room had begun to fray and fall apart. 

“You okay?” She heard Gyu ask, and Poppy lifted her head up, looking at Gyu, who was wiping down one of the cups. He seemed genuinely concerned for her well being. If Poppy had learned anything about the effects of holding things in, it was simply that it created an even more neurotic and cold version of herself. Plus, why not vent to a complete stranger?

“I took a job today.” Poppy told him. “And I took it to protect someone that I love, but it turns out that taking it may actually be putting him in even more of a predicament because of me.”

Gyu nodded, his face telling Poppy that he understood exactly how she felt, and she had to wonder how many others in the room were forced into joining just like she was; how many others were left with no choice and felt the way that she did with seemingly no way out.

“It’s not your fault.” Gyu told her, putting the glass up above his head on a hanging rack.

“Yeah,” Poppy grumbled. “It sort of is. I went charging into a situation without doing the necessary research, thinking I could handle it on my own, and I pulled him down with me.”

“You couldn’t have known what that would have meant for you.” Gyu empathized. “We all made decisions that brought us to where we are, and now we have a choice to make. Where do we go from here?”

Gyu reached down, placing a comforting hand on Poppy’s arm.

“You’ll figure it out. Just give it some time.” Gyu smiled, and he went back to work, serving the patrons of the bar. Poppy glanced down at the pill that Lang left on the bar, picking it up between her fingers and examining it. It looked like a red Mike and Ike or a Red Hot. It didn’t have any particular markings on it, and she found herself curious about what it was.

“They call it a Red Devil.” Gyu suddenly appeared before her again. Poppy nodded.

“A Red Devil.” She repeated, fascinated by it. Poppy had never been one to dabble in drugs, but then again, she was never one who would have signed her life away to a criminal organization. She had no history of illegal activity. Hell, she had never really even been in a true fight until she came here. 

She glanced over her shoulder at Lang, his arms spread comfortably across the lounge seating as he listened with vague disinterest to the conversations at the table he sat at. Poppy watched as one the escorts smoothly cozied up to him as he shot her an annoyed look, which she didn’t see, and he took his arms off the back of the sofa, scooting away from her to avoid contact, and crossing his arms.

Lang seemed fairly level headed to Poppy, albeit a bit cold and calculated. He was a lieutenant with the clan, so he had his own experience in dealing with tougher emotions and did a damned good job repressing them. He clearly wanted to help Poppy.

“How about I take that?” Gyu interrupted her rumination, holding his hand out. Poppy stared at him for a moment, then, holding eye contact, put the pill on her tongue, put her drink to her lips and swallowed it. Gyu looked at her sympathetically and shook his head.

“You don’t know what you’re in for. When you start feeling those effects, if you don’t like them, come find me.” Gyu told her. Poppy nodded, finishing off her drink and pushing herself away from the bar, heading to the dance floor.

When had she become a person who would take pills like that? Where had that reckless nature come from and why? Tora had been right. Maybe she didn’t give a fuck about herself. Poppy wasn’t sure, but she felt like her life was spiraling out of control anyways. It would be nice to feel like it wasn’t even for just a few hours.

The blue lighting on the dance floor was mesmerizing, and Poppy enjoyed the feeling of the bass beat as she swayed her body to the movement. Everyone all around her seemed to be in the same sort of psychosis, swaying against each other while Poppy swayed alone, listening to the sound of the music. The candle lights twinkling in the frozen waterfall were hypnotic to Poppy, and she felt unable to take her eyes off of them, only able to feel the tingling sensation of the bass on her skin, which had begun to feel warm and comforting.

The bright sounds of a guitar intermixed with the gentle pulsing beat of a synthesizer made Poppy smile. Even though the DJ added his own flair to the song, he still maintained its stripped down origins that made the song recognizable and well loved. In fact, Poppy knew this song. It was a cover of an old song her dad used to listen to when she was younger, and she almost sobbed out loud thinking of her father. What would he think of her now? He must be so disappointed in her.

“No.” Poppy chastised herself inwardly, swallowing back those emotions. “Don’t do that to yourself. You made your choice. It’s time to learn to live with it.”

But was this what living with it felt like? Was it supposed to feel like this? How was everyone in this bar not institutionalized by now? How was Tora still sane?

“No.” She berated herself. “Don’t think about him. Just let it go.”

—  
I’m only pretty sure  
That I can’t take anymore  
Before you take a swing  
I wonder  
What are we fighting for?  
—

Poppy felt a pair of hands brush up on her body, tracing her sides and pulling her closely. He felt different than she remembered, but she leaned into him anyway. His hands felt like heaven on her body. She could feel their warmth leaving trails wherever they touched. He pulled her body close to his, and Poppy leaned her head back against his shoulder, which was a little shorter than she thought it was. She could feel him breathing on her neck in a soft cadence, the humidity like dragon’s breath electrifying her senses. Her body moved rhythmically against his body, and he ran his hands over her, pulling her close to him in an embrace that felt protective but comforting, firm but with a gentleness that felt so unlike him.

—  
When I say out loud  
I wanna get out of this  
I wonder  
Is there anything  
I’m gonna miss  
—

She reached up, and felt his neck, bare where long, dark hair used to hang down, but that same Balthuman tattoo, raised a little on the surface on his neck. Poppy’s brow furrowed in confusion as her fingers traced the lines and curves of the tattoo. It felt like this was meant to be a private moment between the two of them, a sensual interlude on full display for everyone to see.

“Did you cut your hair?” Poppy breathed, the world swirling a little in the best possible way. The lights from the waterfall began to blur in front of her, and she closed her eyes, wanting to heighten the feeling of his touch, wishing she could shut off all of her other senses just to fully commit to this one simple feeling.

His head tilted down, his lips running over her neck, and she shivered in ecstasy. A cold sensation touched on her neck, one that Poppy couldn’t quite place. She felt his hands trace up her body, fingertips on her neck, lightly brushing her hair out of the way, and Poppy felt herself begin to tremble. That same cold sensation brushed over her neck when all of the sudden, she put all of the pieces together, her eyes snapping open, a sickening dizziness and unpleasant awareness catching her off guard as Poppy realized it was a lip ring.

—  
I wonder how’s it gonna be  
When you don’t know me  
How’s it gonna be  
When you’re sure I’m not there  
How’s it gonna be  
When there’s no one left to talk to  
Between you and me  
Cause I don’t care  
How’s it gonna be  
—

“No.” The voice said in response to her question, and Poppy froze, her body tensing up. That wasn’t his voice. Poppy looked back at him, panic setting in and saw Lang behind her. He looked down at her expressionless.

—  
Where we used to laugh  
There’s a shouting match  
Sharp as a thumbnail scratch  
A silence I can’t ignore  
Like the hammock by the doorway  
We spent time in  
Swings empty  
I don’t see lightning like last fall  
When it was always  
About to hit me  
—

“Mr. Lang!” Poppy stammered, stumbling away from him. “I—I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Lang asked, stepping forward and gently taking her hand. “I was the one who approached you. You looked...so lonely.”

Poppy hated that Lang recognized her emotions so easily and empathized with her, but she hated herself even more for actually liking how he touched her. She felt ashamed that she hadn’t even recognized it wasn’t Tora to begin with, and she had allowed him to put his hands on her body like that. Lang took a step forward, tucking a piece of hair behind Poppy’s ear, his thumb tracing her cheek.

“Poppy.” He said her name, recognizing that hurt she was feeling. He wanted to help her in his own way, and Poppy felt the rest of those pieces she had tried to mend together shatter into a thousand pieces. She didn’t deserve someone like Tora. 

—  
I wonder  
How’s it gonna be  
When it goes down  
—

From behind the two of them, Poppy heard a commotion as people separated violently in a warpath making its way directly toward Lang and Poppy, and Poppy knew exactly what was coming their way. 

“Hey! Don’t do that!” Gyu shouted. “Stop it!”

—  
How’s it gonna be  
When you’re not around  
How’s it gonna be  
When you found out there was nothing  
Between you and me  
Cause I don’t care  
How’s it gonna be  
—

Lang turned toward Poppy, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her off of the dance floor toward the darkened corner, away from a tiger on the prowl. 

Poppy found her back against a wall, Lang put his arms on either side of her to protect her, and Poppy glanced up at him incredulously, watching him glance over his shoulder, his stare intent, following the danger, making sure he wouldn’t need to step in, but Poppy noticed his body was completely at ease. He wasn’t intimidated by the prospect of a fight. He turned, locking eyes with Poppy.

—  
Want to get myself back in again  
The soft dive of oblivion  
I wanna taste the salt of your skin  
The soft dive of oblivion  
Oblivion  
—

A look passed over Lang’s face, one Poppy couldn’t quite place. He reached down, touching Poppy’s face, and she pulled his hand away gently, saying,

“Don’t.”

The space between them felt suffocating to Poppy and she gently put her hand out, pushing Lang back, staring up at him as he looked back at her, a strange and tense electricity passing between the two of them.

Out of nowhere, the mood shifted—a dark, threatening presence clouding the atmosphere as the two of them looked for the force, finding it standing only a few feet away:

Tora was out for blood; his eyes dark, body tense. His hair was down, the strawberry barrette nowhere to be seen. He looked between the two of them, from Lang to Poppy before his eyes settled on Poppy.

—  
How’s it gonna be  
When you don’t know me  
Anymore  
How’s it gonna be  
—

Lang nodded to Tora, casting one more glance back at Poppy, making sure she was okay. Poppy nodded, and Lang reluctantly left the two of them alone.

A long moment passed between the two of them before Tora said,

“You left. When I got out of the shower, you were gone. I didn’t know where you went.”

She could tell he was holding back right now by his body language alone: tense shoulders, muscles flexed, looking for a fight, fists furiously clenched into balls. Poppy looked at him a moment longer, trying to make it seem like she wasn’t high on drugs, but she slurred,

“You needed some time alone, so I gave it to you.”

Tora crossed his arms, looking at her coolly.

“What are you on, Poppy?” He asked.

“Nothing.” Poppy lied, and the look on Tora’s face told her he knew she was lying to him. He nodded in disappointment.

“Gyu told me ya took a Red Devil.” Tora told her. Fucking Gyu. “Ya don’t have to lie to me.”

“Maybe not.” Poppy agreed. Tora uncrossed his arms, and Poppy could feel the heat of Lang’s stare from across the bar. She made a conscious effort not to look at him.

“What’s going on here?” Tora pried. Poppy looked back at Tora, and she could tell it was taking everything he had in him not to hunt Lang down and figure out what happened for himself.

“There’s nothing going on here.” Poppy answered semi-honestly. 

“Really?” Tora arched an eyebrow. “What I walked in on didn’t look like nothing.”

“He saw I was alone, and took the opportunity to come dance with me.” Poppy explained simply. 

“Maybe if you had been there to begin with instead of shutting me out, none of this would’ve happened.” Poppy thought angrily, but realized immediately it was unfair to think that way. We all make choices. She had made a conscious choice to throw her awareness away for the night, and look where it got her,

“Well forgive me for not fucking knowing what dancing is like these days. I didn’t realize dancing involved Lang putting his lips on ya fucking neck or his hands on ya goddamn face and body like that.” Tora explained. 

“It doesn’t—he didn’t.” Poppy stammered. Another lie. What was she doing? Why was she lying? He had clearly seen what had happened. There was no use denying it now.

“You don’t have to keep pretending you’re okay.” Tora crossed his arms, glaring down at her, and Poppy felt immediately like she was being scolded yet again.

“And you don’t have to treat me like a child.” She pushed back.

“No?” Tora raised his eyebrows. “Then stop acting like one.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Poppy spat, marching past him toward the bar.

“Gyu, close my tab.” Poppy was beyond irritated by this point. If she wanted to take pills to make herself feel better, then she would. If she wanted to dance with every fucking guy in this bar, she would. To hell with him. He made the choice to shut her out. It wasn’t the other way around.

“Alright. Thanks for—“

“Oh, cut the shit, you narc.” Poppy had lost her patience, snatching the card out of his hand and storming out of the bar, stumbling her way out the doors onto the city streets. A few of the patrons looked at her with humorous curiosity and then turned their attention away from her.

Poppy stumbled toward where the cabs were loading, only to feel a strong tug on her arm. She turned to him, and in exasperation, shouted,

“WHAT, TORA? What do you want? What else can I give you that I already haven’t?”

This had attracted most of the eyes on the street.

“You’re making a god damn fool of yourself right now.” Tora grumbled.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what these people think of me!” Poppy spat, dizziness settling in as she fought to steady herself.

“Who are you right now?” Tora seethed. Poppy pushed back,

“I am what you made me.”

Tora seemed taken aback, shocked that she had said that. She looked him dead in the eyes, looking to hurt him.

“Take a good look, Tora.” Poppy seethed. “Because this is who I am now. This neurotic, pathetic mess of a psychopath that I’ve been made to be because of you and your fucking boss.”

Tora took Poppy’s hand, dragging her to a side street to save her from becoming a roadside attraction at the expense of drugs and emotions running high. 

“What? What’s the matter?” Poppy fumed. “You don’t like this Poppy? Am I not innocent enough for you now that I know the game, and I’m rolling the dice too?”

Tora had seen this before. This uncertain wave of emotions and this meltdown. He’d lived it, and he knew what she was going through. It hurt him to watch her struggle like this, and he knew she was lashing out, not because of him, but because she couldn’t take what was going on within herself. He considered what he should tell her. How he should handle the situation or if he should say anything at all.

“I don’t know this Poppy.” He told her quietly. She put her hands over her eyes, trying to stop the spinning and the onslaught of tears that were threatening to burst free, realizing that she didn’t know this Poppy either, and she wasn’t so sure she really wanted to. 

Poppy paced back and forth doing her best to reign her emotions in and get them back under control, but it was hopeless. The dam had burst, and now all that remained was the flood of emotions and the damage left behind in the wake of her own destructive state.

“But I want to know her.” His voice was soft, catching Poppy off guard. “Because the last thing I want is to lose her.”

His mind flashed back to the Ice Bar, searching for Poppy. He approached Gyu, who told him what had happened and what she said. He pointed to where Poppy was on the dance floor, and saw her in Lang’s arms, dancing with him, putting her hands on him, allowing him to kiss her that way. He watched Lang touch her face, press her against the wall like that. 

And he hated it. 

Poppy stared at him, her pacing stopped, and he leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets. He produced the strawberry barrette and tied his hair back again.

“I just—I want to go back to the way things were.” She explained.

“Before you knew me.” Tora found himself thinking. “Before I did this to you.”

“I know ya do.” His voice was gentle—reassuring.

“You keep saying there’s nothing wrong with me. That everything I’m feeling is normal, but I can’t help but feel like it’s not.” Tears escaped her eyes without her permission. “When all I do is hurt you over and over again.” 

He put his arms around her, allowing her to cry, and they sank down together on the side street as she came down off of the high she was on.

“I’m sorry.” It was a phrase she found herself saying a lot lately, struggling to cope with and reign in those emotions she was feeling. Maybe, the way she saw it, it was easier to push him away and act like a jerk to him because it wouldn’t be so hard when she eventually slipped up and Tora suffered because of it.

“I’m sorry.” She said again. This time in response to her thoughts. Because, in truth, wouldn’t it be easier for both of them if she just left? He had thought about it too—that his life would be easier and less complicated without her around to fuck it all up.

He wouldn’t have to worry about her and her stupid, reckless antics anymore. He wouldn’t have to feel beat down by the many different versions of Poppy and her cruel, selfish attitude. She wouldn’t keep hurting him, and she wouldn’t feel so responsible for him. They could both go their own way without any sort of connection to each other and Balthuman would have to find another way to get her to stay that didn’t mean putting him at risk anymore. Tora could go back to who he was before he knew her when his job was easy, mindless, brute force.

For once, Poppy wanted to do something for him, something unselfish. She wanted to save him and lift him up and out of the darkness. She wanted to give him a chance at life without being dragged down by her. The tears came to an eerie stop, and she sat up.

She pushed herself off of the ground, and away from Tora, head down, pacing back and forth before she finally stopped and turned toward him.

“Let’s end this.” She said.

—

How’s it gonna be?


	18. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re not a fan of the NSFW bits, there’s a section in here with Claude Lang that gets a little risqué.
> 
> If you don’t like that sort of thing, skip the first section where you see his name.

18.  
“Let’s end this.”

For a moment, Tora’s mind went blank. In all the directions he had expected the conversation to go, the thought of Poppy wanting to leave—really leave, was never a thought that crossed his mind.He was completely blindsided by her suggestion, and even hearing her say those words made him feel physically sick. 

He retraced their conversations and his actions over the last few days wondering where the fuck he went wrong or what he could have possibly done to make her want to leave. He thought back to their conversation last night and what he said to her:

“You know, everyday I ask myself: why am I doing this? Why am I feeling this way? Why can’t I just let it go? Why can’t I just let you go, and then I wouldn’t have to feel this fucking way?” 

And he had never wanted to rip his own tongue from his body as bad as he wanted to at this moment. He had put this thought in her mind and left it to fester. He had left her in the dark, shut her out when she finally told him the truth after he had asked her to open up to him all day.

Tora pressed his lips together, wondering how the fuck he was going to dig himself out of this hole. He supposed be would begin simply.

“No.” He said flatly. Poppy raised her eyebrows at his explicit refusal.

“You don’t get to decide.” Poppy said, crossing her arms, trying to channel that cool, calm and collected Poppy that shocked Vincent and made Ramsey back off, but Tora knew her games. He stood toe to toe with her seeing that resolve in her eyes begin to waver.

“Like hell I don’t. There’s two of us involved in this.” Tora sneered at her, a little perturbed at her haughty defiance. Poppy was even a little shocked at his response. He put his head down, turning away from her to collect himself before going on.

“You can’t tell me ya really want this.” He tried to sound impassive, but it was hard to keep a cool head. He pushed forward, and she had no choice but to back into a wall. He leaned down, talking low into her ear,

“Not after what we just did in the hotel room. Not after what ya said to me.”

Poppy sighed. She was trying so hard to shut the door on him, but damn if he wasn’t blocking it. 

“If I’m wrong, tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll back off now. I’ll walk away from you, and I won’t look back.” He told her, and that second part had been a lie. Tora knew damned well that he would spend the rest of his life looking back if she decided this was it. 

He swallowed hard and continued,

“If you want to do this, Poppy. I mean, if YOU want this, I’ll get the fuck out of ya way and let ya go. I’d be a liar for telling you I loved ya and then being selfish enough to force ya to stay.

“But don’t do this for me. Don’t do this because ya think I’ll be better off without ya or some shit like that. I don’t want this.” Tora growled. “Because to me this is worse than any physical pain that anyone could ever inflict on me, and it’s way worse than Vincent taking me out.”

“Not to me.” She cast a sharp glance up at him. “I’m the one who would have to live without you, not the other way around.”

“I would if ya did this to me.” His voice was cold, and she realized what a hypocrite she was with what she had just said. He crossed his arms and they both stared at each other, neither one of them wanting to back down from this.

“Tell me the truth.” He pressed Poppy. “If this is what ya want, or even what ya need, we can part ways right here and right now.”

****

Claude Lang watched Tora and Poppy from the balcony in Ice Bar as Tora interrogated her. He could tell just by the interaction between the two of them that there was something going on there, and when Poppy stormed away from him with Tora in tow, Lang found himself very pissed off.

What the fuck did that asshole have that he didn’t have? Lang was fucking sick of people talking about how great Tora was when he hadn’t even had a chance to really prove his worth. He was constantly living in Tora’s shadow, always second best. Hell, even Vincent played favorites with that asshole.

One of the escorts, a shorter girl with brown hair leaned in toward Lang. In her own way, she sort of reminded him of Poppy, and he felt himself get hard looking at her.

“I saw ya down there with that girl.” She told him, sliding closer. “It looked like you were real close with her.”

Lang said nothing, catching the eye of one of the men that was with him. There was an unspoken conversation between the two of them, and the man got up, knowing good and well he was being asked to leave, and he took the others with him.

Lang turned his attention back to his version of Poppy, her hands wandering, sliding over his thighs.

“So,” Lang’s Poppy said. “Is she your girl?”

Lang looked at his Poppy for a moment, and then smiled at her,

“You could say that.”

“And, when you’re with her,” his Poppy said, her hands moving up toward his hard on, stroking it for him, “does she do this for you?”

In his mind, he imagined Poppy’s hands on him, Poppy’s face on this girl’s face. He thought back to what she felt like, his hands on her body; the feeling of her shivering beneath him because of the way he touched her, and he wondered, did Tora do that for her? Did she let Tora pull her against his body like that? 

“No.” Lang sighed, caught up in his thoughts.

“That’s a shame.” His Poppy purred. “Then, does she do this?”

His Poppy slowly unzipped his pants, leaning down and putting her mouth around him. Lang hissed in satisfaction, his fingers grabbing her hair as those big brown eyes looked up at him. He imagined Poppy’s pretty little mouth around his dick, her tongue tracing the length of him, sucking on him that way.

“No.” Lang breathed, thrusting himself deep into her throat, as he lay back, closing his eyes. “But she will.”

****  
Tora and Poppy were locked intently in a thousand yard stare, the ball now in Poppy’s court.

“I don’t want this.” Poppy said at last, and Tora felt a flutter of hope grab at his heart. “But I feel like we need this.”

As frustrated as he felt at hearing her tell him she felt like they needed to part ways, something inside Tora woke up.

“She still loves you.” They part of him rejoiced. “You didn’t fuck up completely, then.”

“We.” Tora scoffed. “You keep saying we. There is no we in this decision because this isn’t something that I need. In fact, this is the last thing I need.”

“Then what do you suggest, Tora?” Poppy tried to remain calm and stick to her guns, but god damn if he wasn’t one of the most frustrating, stubborn men she had ever known. “What am I supposed to do when I inevitably fuck up and Vincent comes for you?”

“Do ya really think I couldn’t handle a few thugs coming at me? I’m not made of glass.” He told her. “Besides, what makes ya think I would even let em get a hit in?”

Tora smirked at Poppy, and she instantly felt that same deep heat sizzling inside of her...of course, it could’ve just been the effects of the Red Devil. 

“Honestly, Poppy, what Vincent Balthuman decides to do is not on you.” Tora told her. “He’s a manipulative bastard, and he’ll make ya feel like it’s your fault, but you aren’t the one who makes the ultimate decision to pull the trigger on an attack or an assassination, he does.

“Besides, he’s been looking for an excuse to effectively discipline me for a long time for getting out of line with him. I’ve pushed my limits with Vincent for a while and gotten away with it. Now, that he’s got a scapegoat, he can blame somebody else when he really wants to punish me.”

Poppy hadn’t really thought about things that way—that maybe, in the bigger picture, this really didn’t have anything to do with her; that she was simply a pawn in Vincent’s sick game. Thinking that way frustrated her for two reasons:

1\. Because Poppy didn’t like the fact that someone was using her own emotions and morals to control her.

2\. Because Vincent had the audacity to use Tora against her—the one person in her life that she was fiercely protective of. Hell, Vincent even threatening Tora was the source of her very first truly murderous thought; the first time she felt that twisted satisfaction at imagining Vincent crawling on the floor, begging for help, and bleeding. She wasn’t one that reveled in the suffering of others, but, for once, she found she could make an exception for Vincent Balthuman.

“I—I hadn’t considered that.” Poppy quietly admitted.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Tora told her. “You’re not a shrewd, conniving asshole looking to control his animals.”

Poppy cast a sharp glance at Tora, nit sure she liked being considered an animal, and absolutely not sure she wanted him to be considered one, but if the shoe fits...

“Look, I know you’re dealing with a lot of shit right now.” He told Poppy. “And I know that sometimes, ya feel all this anger and pent up aggression inside of ya that ya not sure how to deal with.

“If ya feel like you’re just gonna snap, snap at me; if ya wanna try those drugs because they make ya forget about things for a while, try em out with me; if ya wanna punch something, and just lay into it, take it out on me. Hell, if ya wanna get that aggression out, I’ll take ya to the boxing ring.

Tora ran his thumb on Poppy’s lower lip, leaning down to her ear and growling,

“Or I’ll take ya to bed.” 

Poppy almost burst into flames at the combination of hearing him suggest this, and the feeling of his lips grazing her neck as he said this. She fought to keep her hands to herself.

Oh how the tides had turned. She was so sure when this conversation began that she would be walking away from him for good. She should be in a taxi right now on her way home, trying to hold it together and not cry in front of the cabbie, but instead, here she was feeling him lift her back up and dust her off. Here he was again, offering to take the hits and roll with them if it meant he got to keep her.

She recalled what he had told her before:

“I’ve been ya punching bag, ya doctor, ya friend, ya lover—and granted, I was all these things willingly for ya. 

“I’ve been there for ya to pick up the pieces even when ya pushed me away. And all I’m asking you to do is fucking tell me what’s going on with ya, and ya can’t even give me that?”

Communication. Connection. Honesty. It’s all he wanted from her. Poppy looked down at her feet because she knew that the moment she looked into his eyes, she was a goner. Instead, Tora lifted her chin up and said,

“Whatever ya need to do, let me be a part of it with you, whatever it is that ya feel ya need. Just, please.”

Tora found himself doing something he could never feature himself doing: pleading for her to stay. 

“Please, don’t leave.”

Who had he become in all this? She had made him into a man that would fall at her feet if she asked him to when all of his life, he looked at men like that as cowardly and weak. 

She made him feel invincible, like he could take any hit, no matter the cost if it meant she would be there with him. 

She made him feel weak, like if she touched him, he might fall into a thousand tiny pieces under her fingertips. 

She made him feel alive, like the world around him was constantly humming and buzzing with vibrancy and possibility. 

She made him feel like he wasn’t the lowlife he had always told himself that he was. Like everything he did mattered to her. Like HE mattered.

How could he let her go?

He had decided a long time ago that the only thing that could make him leave would be a shot to the chest or a bullet to the brain. He would always come back to her.

Poppy nodded, and just as predicted, the moment she looked into his eyes again, every intention she had had of leaving him had disappeared. In fact, she knew she could ever bring herself to even entertain the thought of walking away from him again after tonight. 

“Okay.” She agreed breathlessly. “But I have a few conditions.”

Tora backed up, crossing his arms.

“She wants to negotiate.” He pretended to be serious. “Tell me, Ms. Businesswoman Wilkes. What are the terms of ya undying loyalty to me?”

“Promise me this is it.” Poppy told him, and she saw that playful demeanor vanish. “That no matter what they threaten us with or throw at us, that we stick together. That when this is all over, and if we find some way out of this, you’ll still want me—whatever version of me I am.

“And I promise, in return, to talk to you, to stop holding things in, to stop trying to bear this cross all alone, and to never to bring this up again. Most importantly, I promise you that when this is done, you’re the one I want to be with. No matter what version of you that you are.”

“Poppy,” Tora sighed, “when I told you I loved you, that meant that you were it for me. There is no going back.”

She was a goner alright. Tora leaned forward, hands in his pockets, and planted a chaste kiss on her lips.

***

Tora walked with Poppy back into the hotel lobby. The doors to Ice Bar opened and the group of women that Poppy had seen on the balcony flooded out in a loud succession as a few of the men she saw walked with them, arms around their necks, waists, etc. Following close behind with his hands in his pockets, that same expressionless look on his face, was Lang. 

Tora paused, and Poppy looked up at him to see what he was doing and who he was looking at. She felt her stomach immediately twist in panic.

“Go have a seat in the seating area over there.” Tora suggested, kissing her on the top of the head, giving her a gentle push in the direction of the lavish seating area, not taking his eyes off of Lang. Poppy froze for a moment, considering intervening, but deciding against it. Reluctantly, she made her way to the seating area and watched the scene unfold before her. If there’s one thing she understood about Tora, it’s that he could forgive her for her trespasses, but he wasn’t such a saint when it came to the sins of others.

***

“Lang.” Tora called out. Lang paused, turning toward Tora with bemused interest and approaching him. Tora saw his eyes behind those designer shades flick to Poppy and then back to him, which pissed him off even more, and Lang could certainly tell.

“Bit possessive over the new recruit?” Lang purred mockingly, crossing his arms and looking Tora dead in the eyes. 

“I’m gonna kill this fucker.” Tora thought. “Fucking disrespectful son of a—“

“I know ya don’t know this, and I don’t expect ya to because it’s not public knowledge, but Poppy is my girl.” He told him, his power stance and attitude adding a silent “so back the fuck off.”

Lang smirked at Tora, fully intent on pushing all of his buttons,

“It sure didn’t seem like that tonight.”

“Calm down.” Tora told himself. “Not in front of Poppy.”

“And if you hadn’t intervened, I’m pretty sure that sweet little recruit would have her legs wide open for me in my bed right now,” Lang stepped forward whispering in Tora’s ear, “and it’s not your name she would be screaming when I made her cum.”

It happened so fast that Lang hadn’t even seen it coming, but the next thing Poppy knew, Lang was down on the floor and Tora was aiming blow after blow to his face, mercilessly unsympathetic as to whether he lived or died at his hands. The entire lobby took off at a dead sprint, trying to pull Tora off of him as he continued his onslaught. It took nearly six people to pry Tora off of Lang, and even then, they struggled to keep a hold of him as he surged forward, successfully getting in another three to four blows before they were able to effectively pull Tora off and form a wall of protection around Lang, who had an unrecognizable crimson blob where his head once was.

“Disrespectful son of a bitch.” Tora growled. A chorus of voices in the wall called out to Tora, trying to assuage that anger:

“It’s okay, big bro.”

“We got him, big bro.”

“That was badass!”

“I’m glad it wasn’t me.”

“Bet he deserved it.”

“Shouldn’t have talked to big bro that way.”

Tora stood back, gathering himself in a calm fashion, and walked away as if nothing happened, but when he turned toward Poppy, the look on her face told him that he had just succeeded in making her terrified of him. He slowed his pace as he approached her, and Tora’s heart sank seeing the intimidation in her eyes, realizing that he had never really shown her this side of him.

“Wh—why did you do that?” Poppy stammered, shivering, unable to take her eyes off of the end result of Tora’s rage. Tora shook his head, trying to figure out how he could possibly justify that violence in front of her.

“I’m sorry.” He told her, reaching out for her only to see her flinch. “Poppy, I would never hurt you.”

Poppy looked over again at the bloody scene on the floor as the doctor rushed over to help Lang, and she wasn’t honestly sure if she was looking at a dead body at this point. With shaking legs, Poppy brushed past Tora, heading toward the elevators, and Tora knew he was in for a world of shit once they got back to the room.

***

Tora sat on the bed, head down, Poppy keeping her distance for the time being. He could understand why she was so afraid of him, looking back at the scene in his mind. 

Poppy considered Tora for a moment, then cautiously made her way over to Tora. She kneeled down in front of him, and he looked away from her, not wanting to take any chance at startling her. With trembling hands, Poppy reached out to him, guiding him into a standing position. She went to work in silence slowly unbuttoning the pressed white shirt, stained with Lang’s blood. Tora caught her hands, and asked,

“What are you doing?”

He still wouldn’t look her in the eye.

“Just let me.” Poppy whispered. His hands held hers prisoner for a moment longer, and then dropped to his sides. She unbuttoned his shirt, taking it, and putting it on a hanger for dry cleaning. From there, Poppy guided Tora to a sitting position, disappearing into the bathroom and reappearing with a damp washcloth.

Poppy straddled Tora, sitting on his lap, and he dared to look up at her, meeting her eyes. He didn’t see terror or disgust, but instead saw sympathy. Gently, Poppy took the washcloth, wiping the blood off of Tora’s face and neck. Her fingers gently ran down his shoulders, to his arms and his hands, and Poppy laced his fingers in hers, gently dabbing at the open wounds, planting kisses over his knuckles that had begun to turn a mean shade of red and purple.

“I know you by now, Tora.” She told him. “And you wouldn’t react that way without a good reason.”

“Still,” he told her. “I’m sorry I scared ya.”

The washcloth fell to the floor, and Poppy put her hands on Tora’s face, kissing him. Tora wrapped his arms around Poppy, pulling her body close to his. God damn if he didn’t love that woman. 

***

Next to Tora, Poppy slept soundly, worn out after an exhausting roller coaster of emotions, downers, and another vigorous workout session in the hotel room. He looked down at her and smiled, carefully getting out of bed, pulling on his pants, and grabbing his cell phone and cigarettes.

Quietly, he slid open the balcony door and took a seat, lighting up as he pulled his phone out to see if he had missed anything in the few hours he had been out of pocket.

“Ah fuck.” Tora hissed, seeing Vincent had called him while he and Poppy were vigorously indisposed. Tora blew out a plume of smoke, already knowing what this was about, checking his texts to see Vincent sent one that said,

“Be in my office at 3.”

Tora checked the time. It was 2:30. He pushed himself out of the chair, cigarette between his lips. He headed inside, pulling on his shirt, which had since been dry cleaned, and his jacket. He left a note for Poppy on her nightstand in case she woke up, his fingers running through her hair gently, lingering for just a moment more, thankful she was still here with him, and off he went.

***

“Do you mind telling me why the hell Claude Lang is in an intensive care unit right now?” Vincent growled. Tora blew out a plume of smoke, and he sat forward, looking at Vincent as he grumbled,

“Disrespect.”

“Disrespect.” Vincent breathed, and Tora could tell he was having a hard time keeping it together. Vincent’s hands were shaking in fury as he ran them through his hair and he laughed a dry, angry chuckle. “What KIND of disrespect?”

Tora shot an angry glance Vincent’s way, recalling what Lang had told him, and he seethed through his teeth,

“Said he would’ve been between Poppy’s legs if I hadn’t intervened. Told me to my face she’d be screaming his name when he made her cum.”

Vincent raised his eyebrows in shock at the blatancy in Tora’s candor. Tora took a deep drag of his cigarette to calm his nerves and settle his anger down.

“Verbatim.” Tora growled, tendrils of smoke seething out of his mouth as he spoke the word. Vincent shook his head. 

“I understand why you were...upset.” Vincent began. “Any man who talks that way about a woman who’s not his own should have his tongue ripped from his body. Much less, who speaks who speaks like that woman’s significant other.”

Tora nodded in agreement.

“But something you need to understand is that this talk is not going to be relegated to just Lang. Poppy being a woman in this organization—well, it’s an occupational hazard.” Vincent smiled. 

A fucking...occupational...hazard? Was he fucking serious? Tora kept that impassive face on and he nodded.

“People are going to speak that way about her, and they’re going to do it to throw you off track—especially now that you’ve made it public knowledge that she belongs to you.” Vincent continued. Tora felt a pang if anger at hearing Vincent refer to her as a piece of property.

“Playing on emotions—well, it’s what we do. It’s what they do, and if you’re not careful it’s going to get you killed, son.” He told Tora, popping the crystal top off of the whiskey decanter, placing two cubes of ice in each one, and pouring the whiskey to about three quarters full in the glass. He set the glass down in front of Tora, who put his cigarette out once Vincent sat next to him on the couch. Immediately, Tora felt on edge at his sudden kindness. 

Tora took the glass warily, sipping at the whiskey and the two of them sat in uncomfortable silence until both glasses were empty.

“Now then,” Vincent smiled, standing, and Tora stood too. Vincent extended his hand out to shake Tora’s hand, firmly grasping it. Out of nowhere, Vincent launched a hard jab to Tora’s cheek followed by another to his lip, never once letting go of Tora’s hand. He yanked Tora forward, whose face had become a sneer at this point.

“If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I can promise you, I’ll make you and your little Poppylan wish that it was the two of you lying in the intensive care unit when I’m finished with you. Pull it. The fuck. Together.” Vincent growled, releasing Tora’s hand with a little shove backward. He pulled a kerchief from his pocket, dabbing at the blood on his fingers, effectively dismissing Tora from his office.

“I’ll be in touch in a few days.” Vincent leered. Tora wiped the blood off of his face and his lip with his sleeve, backing out of Vincent’s office in fury. He stalked down the halls, pushing past other other members, who stared at his face in shock.

Tora would need to take care of his face before he went back to the hotel room. He didn’t want to worry Poppy. 

He headed to Ice Bar which had died down quite a bit, and when Gyu saw Tora approaching, he nearly dropped the glass he was holding. 

“Holy shit, big bro!” Gyu shouted. Tora slid into the empty bar seat, and everyone else that was at the bar at the time suddenly felt the need to get the fuck out of the way. Tora’s body was a ball of tension, his eyes glaring down at nothing.

“I need some vodka. Highest alcohol content ya got and a towel.” Tora growled. Gyu got to work immediately, grabbing a shot glass, filling it with vodka, and handing him a towel. Tora dipped the towel in the vodka, then put it on his lip, hissing a little at the pain of the wound.

“Vincent?” Gyu quietly asked. Tora nodded. Gyu knew there were very few people in Tora’s life that would even have a chance at getting a shot in to his face, and it was only because he allowed them to. He knew Alice and Poppy wouldn’t do that to him. Goliath had been missing for quite some time, so that really only left Vincent.

“Ice.” Tora grumbled, and Gyu got him a cup of ice. Tora took a few cubes, wrapping them in the towel and pressed them against his cheek and mouth.

“Is this about Poppy?” Gyu asked, and Tora glared at him. Gyu got the message loud and clear. “Then—it’s about Lang?” 

Tora said nothing, choosing not to react to Gyu. It wasn’t his fucking business anyway.

“Big bro. Are you sure this is a good idea?” Gyu pressed.

“Am I sure WHAT is a good idea?” Tora snapped, looking up at Gyu, whose eyes widened. “Choose ya next words carefully.”

“P—Poppy.” Gyu stammered. “Seems like she’s been nothing but trouble to you.”

“Alright, Gyu.” Tora threw the towel down in frustration, the ice clattering and sliding across the bar. “Tell me how you would react if that fucker came up to ya and told ya that if ya hadn’t shown up, he’d be in between ya girl’s legs.” Tora growled.

“Well I—I—“ Gyu stammered. 

“What’s that?” Tora hissed, leaning forward, and causing Gyu to go stumbling into the liquor bottles. “Speak up, Gyu.” 

“I—I didn’t.” Gyu couldn’t seem to get a sentence out with Tora looking at him like he was about to maul him.

“Or how about that fucker lookin me dead in my goddam eyes and telling me he’d be fucking her until she came, and when she did she’d be screaming his name? Should I have just walked away? Been the bigger man?” Tora’s voice was icy cold as he spoke to Gyu.

“I didn’t know, big bro.” Gyu quietly admitted.

“Nah, ya didn’t, but that’s the bitch about assumptions. Ya talk shit ya know nothing about.” Tora shot one last irritated glance at Gyu, before turning away from him and storming out of the bar.

***

Poppy’s eyes fluttered open, darting around the room. She reached out next to her finding herself alone in bed, and she sat up, pulling the sheets up around her body. 

The room was unusually quiet. His shirt still hung neatly on the hanger, which told Poppy that he was likely still in the room somewhere. She glanced over at the bedside table, seeing the note Tora left her that said he was called out for the night.

She pulled the sheets back and tip toed into the bathroom, finger combing her hair and grabbing the plush white robe that the hotel provided for them. She glanced around the corner to the balcony where she saw his long, dark legs outstretched on the balcony railing.

Sliding the door open, Tora glanced over his shoulder, putting his cigarette out as she took a seat next to him on the balcony. Poppy admired his physique, a black tank top highlighting his chiseled physique, the same black slacks he had worn the night before, dark hair pulled back with that strawberry barrette.

“I thought you left.” She told him.

“Not without you.” He smiled, but that smile didn’t reach his eyes. Something was off about him, and Poppy wasn’t quite sure what it was. He wouldn’t look at her.

“Tora?” He looked down, turning his head slightly to acknowledge that he had heard her.

“Hey.” She stood, kneeling down in front of him, her hands gently turning his face to look at her as Poppy saw the full effects of Vincent’s brutality toward him.

“Oh my god.” Poppy gasped, and she immediately leaned in closer to get a better look at the damage. 

“Looks worse than it is.” Tora forced a smile.

“Who did this to you?” Poppy whispered, and she had the strangest feeling of empathy, suddenly understanding to the slightest degree what Tora had been through when he had to help her through the aftermath of her initiation fight. Tora frowned, refusing to answer.

Poppy thought back to the note, connecting the dots. Who would have called him out for the night but...

“It was Vincent, wasn’t it?” Poppy breathed, and seeing his lack of reaction told her everything she needed to know. She put her hand up to her mouth and turned away from him, leaning on the balcony railing to recompose herself.

“I’m alright.” Tora told her gently. Poppy turned back around, and Tora felt a brief shock at the look on her face. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen that type of darkness in her face before. He could tell that whatever she was thinking, it had clearly taken her away from him for the moment.

“Poppy?” Tora gently called. She turned to him robotically, her worst fears coming true. Poppy was well aware that the scuffle last night had been her fault, and as a result, Vincent had taken retaliatory measures against her. 

“Poppy.” Tora called a little more firmly, and she looked at him, her eyes wide in fury. He stood up, and she put her hands on his chest. He pulled her head to his chest. “Look, I already told ya, I’m not made of glass.”

All this time, Poppy thought she would feel this overwhelming sense of guilt when it happened. She thought she would be devastated beyond belief, wrought with crippling depression at what she had done to cause this, but she didn’t feel that at all. What she felt was absolute rage in its purest form.

Poppy stood on her tiptoes, and Tora leaned down to kiss her, picking her up and sitting with her on the balcony seating. Poppy broke the kiss, trailing a kiss along his jaw, back to his ear. She situated her body, pulling at the straps on his tank top to get his body as close to hers as possible.

“For what he did to you,” Poppy seethed, and Tora leaned back to look into her eyes, surprised at the acidity in her tone of voice as she spoke. She ran her fingers gently over the bruise on his cheek and the cut on his lip, looked him dead in his eyes without a trace of humor, and growled,

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”


	19. Blood In, Blood Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, fair warning. This chapter contains a scene that will be very difficult for many to read as it involves rape.
> 
> Please know, going into this, that scene is not for the faint of heart.
> 
> Also, know that this chapter marks a big turning point for Poppy’s character.
> 
> Everyone take a deep breath and buckle up.

“I have a business proposition I want you to take care of.” Vincent sat behind his desk, rummaging through a few papers, before plucking the correct ones out of the pile and handing them to me in a neat, leather portfolio. It was taking everything that I had not to launch myself over his desk at him for what he did to Tora, but I reminded myself of the phrase, “Good things come to those who wait.”

Tora sat quietly in the seating area behind me, his feet up on the coffee table, listening to what was going on, but not particularly invested in it.

“It’s a simple proposition. There’s a club downtown that I want to invest in. I’ve been speaking to the owner for quite some time now. I have to say,” Vincent laughed, “the owner was quite reluctant to consider selling even though the business was clearly being run into the ground by his lack of expertise, but when I approached him about selling, he flat out told me no. Can you imagine?”

Vincent laughed heartily, seeming to find this more than amusing. 

“I wonder why he wouldn’t want to sell it to you.” I found myself sarcastically wondering.  
“Psycho.”

“What is it that speaks to you about this club?” My tone was cordial and cool, and I tried to remain professional, considering this similar to every other job I had done.

“Ares Street is growing quickly, enveloping many businesses in the area. This one is particularly advantageous because it will be the first in an area that hasn’t quite been claimed by Ares Street yet.” Vincent explained.

“And you want to get your foot in the door before the other competition in the area smells blood in the water.” I offered.

“That’s a disturbing metaphor, Miss Wilkes, but yes.” Vincent eyed me for a moment, and I could tell that he was doing a deep dive into my body language and tone. I sat forward folding my hands together.

“What can you tell me about the neighborhood it’s currently in?” I pressed.

“It’s an older neighborhood, but full of older, more respected establishments. It’s where all the old money prefers to indulge in their guilty pleasures.” Vincent offered, raising his eyebrow in innuendo.

“So,” I thought. “It’s a red light district and a gambling scene for rich old men and women.”

“Noted.” I nodded. “And my timeframe?”

“I need this solidified and in writing by tomorrow.” Vincent told me, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. Tomorrow? How in the world am I going to seal the deal in ink by tomorrow? I kept a straight face and nodded.

“Is there anything else I can assist you with, Mr. Balthuman?” I asked. Vincent’s eyes lit up deviously, and he folded his hands together.

“Actually,” he purred. “There is something. Claude Lang is awake in the hospital, and he’s asking to see you.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, and I could feel Tora’s eyes boring into my back.

“Tora and I will head over there immediately after this meeting.” I smiled coolly.

“No.” Vincent said flatly. “Just you.”

Vincent picked up his phone, dialing a quick number and hummed,

“I need a car to take Ms. Wilkes to the Ares Street Hospital.”

He hung up the phone and my jaw threatened to drop. Tora stepped forward just enough to show that he was trying to protect me.

“Mr. Balthuman, Lang has made his intentions with Poppy grossly known. Surely I could accompany her to—“

“You’ve done quite enough, and you would do well to stop talking while I’ve still got my patience.” Vincent snapped, casting a murderous glance in Tora’s direction. “For Christ’s sake, Tora. He’s bound to a bed. What could he possibly do to her?”

Tora stepped back, effectively shutting his mouth for the time being.

“Now then, Miss Poppylan,” Vincent smiled, turning his attention back to me, “inside of that leather portfolio, you’ll find everything you need—contact information, notes about the business, background information on the client and the history of the business and the neighborhood.”

Vincent then placed a new phone and a stack of business cards on top of the portfolio.

“This is your business phone. It’s programmed with a direct line to my number and a few other numbers that will be beneficial to your work experience with the Balthuman Organization. I’ve also taken the liberty of ordering you business cards that I expect you to leave with each client you visit and that I hope you will leave with potential clients, and not just potential suitors.” Vincent smiled at his last little joke, and my lips curled up into a wry smile. Behind me, I could feel Tora fuming.

“I expect you to use this phone for business and business only. If you have other matters to attend to, please use your own personal device.” Vincent finished.

“Understood.” I nodded.

“Now then,” Vincent sat back in his chair, “there is a car waiting outside to take Poppy to the hospital to see Mr. Lang. Miss Wilkes, you will have a security detail on you at all times while you travel, headed, of course, by Tora. This is the only time that Tora will not be with you when you are traveling in any sense of the word.

“Today, your security detail will be headed by Mr. Ramsey Baker. I believe you two are acquainted?” Vincent asked. 

“We are.” I nodded.

“Any questions or objections about your security detail?” Vincent inquired.

“Forgive me, sir. This might be a ridiculous question, but why do I need one?” I asked him. Vincent looked at me as if I had lost my mind, and Tora cleared his throat behind me. Obviously, this was humorous to both of them.

“Tora, would you like to enlighten Miss Wilkes?” Vincent’s voice was strained with a polite impatience. I turned reluctantly to listen to Tora, who looked at me sympathetically.

“Sometimes, things don’t always go according to plan, Poppy. The business world here is a lot different than you’re probably used to. The clientele is used to more...persuasive and forceful forms of negotiation.” Tora explained. “There is a security detail involved in all business negotiations. We all rarely travel alone.”

“There you have it.” Vincent grinned. “Now then, off you both go.”

And at that, Vincent went back to working at his desk. I rose, taking the portfolio and tucking the phone in my purse and Tora led me out of the room by my lower back. Once the door closed, Tora paused for a moment, putting his hands on his hips. I leaned back against the wall, waiting for his temper to lessen a little, and he spat,

“I don’t like the idea of you going to visit Lang alone.”

“Neither do I.” I admitted quietly.

“It just feels off.” Tora told her. 

“I know.” I agreed, and I paced forward, touching his face. He put his hand up to touch mine, planting a kiss on my hand. “But Ramsey will be there. You already know he’s willing to protect me from personal experience.”

Tora nodded, resigning himself to the fact that there wasn’t much he could do. Then, he brushed a quick kiss on my cheek and grumbled,

“Let’s get this over with.”

***

Ramsey Baker was waiting for us outside the entrance dressed in a sharp black suit and sunglasses. On his neck, he had already been marked with the Balthuman organization tattoo. He opened the door to the dark SUV, and, upon seeing Tora, puffed up a little.

“Sorry, mate, but this chariot is for Miss Poppy only.” Ramsey said, his Cockney accent making it a little difficult for Tora to understand him. Ramsey reached up, dusting off Tora’s shoulder, and said,

“Sorry, bruv.”

The driver and passenger of the SUV both saw how he touched Tora and shook their heads, knowing good and well that antagonizing Tora wasn’t a smart way to go. I sort of figured that after being laid out by him the last time, he would learn to back off, but stepping off simply didn’t seem to be in his nature. I locked eyes with Tora and shook my head, quietly asking him not to engage, as I climbed into the back of the SUV. 

“Something is up.” Tora told Ramsey. “I don’t trust Lang. For him to ask for Poppy and want her to come alone—just, watch out for her.”

Ramsey wasn’t sure quite how to take this information. He found it a little curious but hilarious at the same time as he threw his head back, laughing at Tora.

“Whatever it is, it’s probably nothing we can’t handle.” Ramsey assured him, patting him firmly on the shoulder. I was pretty sure by looking at the other men in the car that they were about to have a stroke at the way he was treating Tora so casually. “Besides, you need to relax when it comes to her, mate. We ain’t all out to get into those panties.”

And at that, Ramsey winked at him and turned his back on Tora, getting into the car and pulling away from a clearly irate Tora.

***

I hesitated outside of Lang’s room, wringing my hands together. Ramsey leaned against the wall casually, pulling a pack of gum out of his jacket and popping a piece in his mouth. The other two men sat nearby in chairs reserved for visitors outside of the hallway, both on their phones. 

“Oi, Pops. You going in or ya just gonna stand there, love?” Ramsey pressed. “We ain’t got all day.”

“Yeah, of course. Sorry.” I wasn’t sure why I felt so nervous, but after our last encounter and the fact that Tora beat the shit out of him because of me, I wasn’t quite sure how it would go. I composed myself and walked into the room.

Lang was lying in the hospital bed with tubes in his nose and wires everywhere. His face was a swollen mess of deep crimson, black and blue.

“Poppy.” His voice was quiet, but he sounded absolutely delighted to see me—well as delighted as Lang could muster in his infinite lack of expression.

“H—how are you feeling?” I was wringing my hands again.

“Better. Now that you’re here.” Lang smiled. I stepped closer to the bed. “I—wanted to apologize for how I acted. Touching you without your permission. I would blame the drugs, but I’d be lying.”

My face flushed hearing him say that.

“You don’t have to apologize. I should’ve had my wits about me more.” I laughed, and it sounded a little unusual coming out of my mouth. Lang smiled in response. 

“Yes.” He agreed wryly. “That seems to be a pretty consistent problem of yours.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, and no sooner than I had spoken the last few words, than I heard the door lock quietly click behind me. A wave of nausea set in as I saw a tall man dressed in a dark suit blocking the door while another closed in from the other side.

“What is this?” My eyes darted around the room, searching for an exit that wasn’t there as I backed up close to the foot of Lang’s bed.

“Tora made it pretty clear that physically I didn’t stand a chance against him. I’m not afraid to admit when I’ve been defeated, but, as the saying goes, there more than one way to skin a cat.

“If I want to get to Tora, then I’ve got to do it through you. It wasn’t hard. You’re a pretty easy book to read, Poppy—all emotion, still thinking that everyone has these redeeming qualities. I made you feel safe. I gave you a respectable distance where you thought I actually respected your boundaries. I gave you the pill to earn your trust and showed you a facade of empathy.

“And then I asked to see you alone, in a hospital room where no one looks at me as a threat. Isn’t that how you do things, Poppy?”

I nodded, feeling that fear overwhelming me.

“Tora violated me in the most personal way possible—he fucked up my face—one of the biggest strengths I had going for me. He embarrassed me in front of the clan. 

“And since I can’t violate him, I’m going to violate you because I know that’s the only way I can bring him down a notch.” And at that, the two men grabbed me by my arms, dragging me toward Lang’s bedside.

“No. No! RAMSEY!” I screamed. “Ramsey?”

“‘S that you, love?” I heard him ask gently, trying to open the door, knocking quietly. “Poppy?”

I dug my heels in as they lifted me up, stuffing a towel in my mouth.

“Poppy, open the door, love.” I could tell there was a slight panic in his voice since I wasn’t answering as he rattled the handle a little harder.

They placed held me in front of Lang as he pulled out a switchblade, slicing my blouse open, the blade so sharp that it cut like a heated knife into butter. He ran the blade over my chest, making a quick cut to the bra to expose me. Then, he flicked the blade around, holding it by the handle and jabbed it in my stomach. I let out a blood curdling scream, but it was muffled by the towel.

“Don’t worry. It’s not fatal. I’m not here to kill you. I’m here to send a message.” Lang smiled.

“Poppy!” I heard a Ramsey call, throwing his weight at the door.

Lang withdrew the blade, pulling back and jabbing it into my right forearm, dragging it down toward my hands. The tears had begun to flow at this point as I screamed out in pain. Lang pulled the blade out yet again, stabbing it into my left forearm and dragging it down again. 

“SOMEONE OPEN THIS FUCKIN DOOR!” I heard Ramsey roar in the hallway as the seconds dragged by. “RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!”

“Lay her down.” Lang said calmly, wiping the switchblade off. They picked me up easily, laying me down in the bed in front of him, as he took the switchblade, cutting my panties off, and putting the switchblade to the side.

“Hold her legs.” Lang commanded, and the two men did as they were told. At that, they pulled my legs apart, despite the fight I was putting up. 

Lang pulled the sheets back, climbed on top of me without a second thought, and jammed himself into my body. All I could do was lay there as time seemed to slow down. 

Everything becoming a hazy recollection as my body went into shock;

The tears were falling in torrents, the blood spreading out quickly, pooling on the sheets in a dizzying warmth;

Muffled screams outside the door as Ramsey threw himself against the door again and again, like a bull charging;

Commotion as doctors and nurses tried to calm him Ramsey down to try to understand what was happening;

Lang thrusting hard and fast into my body, intending to pleasure himself, wanting to absolutely humiliate me and degrade me in the worst possible way;

Lang leaned down and I turned away from him as he seethed,

“I told him you would have your legs wide apart for me. And here we are.”

He reached down, his hand moving in rapid motion over my clit, and much to my shame, my body reacted, instantly becoming wetter, an orgasm threatening to burst forth;

“Ohhh, that’s a good girl.” Lang purred. “Come for me.”

And I felt my body climax against my will, body pulsing against him as he let out a heated moan, thrusting faster into me, eventually letting out an erotic yell as he pumped into me two more times before pulling out of me.

“Did you get all that?” Lang breathed, sitting back in bed, covering his body back up, and to add insult to injury, one of the men who had been holding me down had recorded the whole thing.

“Sure did, boss.” He said. At that moment, the door burst open and absolute chaos ensued with staccatos of yelling, doctors pulling people back, Ramsey going absolutely ballistic on the two other men, nurses rushing in to my side, the other two men trying and failing to get to Lang.

“Send it to him.” Lang growled with a simple ease, laying back and taking in all the chaos.

“Of fuck!” Ramsey yelled, immediately leaving what he was doing. “Poppy! Shit! SHIT!”

I stood back up, my body shaking furiously, blood and semen flowing down my legs and arms. The tears had long dried up, replaced by a feeling of numb awareness. 

“It’s alright. It’s alright, Poppy. I got you, love. I got you.” Ramsey put his arm around me, helping me walk out until my legs gave out on me, my body shaking, going into shock.

“Oi! I need a fucking doctor! Get a doctor!” He shouted.

***

Tora sat at the Ice Bar, drink in hand. It was a relatively quiet afternoon, but he couldn’t relax. His knee shook relentlessly under the bar, hands flipping his cell phone over to check the screen every two minutes or so like clockwork.

“Hey, Vincent sent three guys with her. I’m sure she’s fine.” Gyu tried reassuring him.

“It’s been an hour and she still hasn’t answered. It shouldn’t be taking this long.” Tora sighed, downing the whiskey in his glass.

“Okay, have you tried texting Ramsey?” Gyu asked.

“Twice. No response.” Tora grumbled. Gyu nodded.

“I’m sure she’s just preoccupied with something.” Gyu smiled. 

Just then, Tora’s phone pinged—the sound of a text message. Tora put his earpiece in intending to call Poppy as soon as he could.

“See? I told you it would be alright!” Gyu grinned, going back to preparing for the night. “And here you were worrying over nothing, big bro. Bet you feel pretty dumb now, am I right?”

Gyu laughed. There was no response from Tora. Gyu glanced over his shoulder and Tora sat looking down at his screen, motionless.

“Big bro? You okay?” Gyu was starting to worry at this point. He put down the glasses he was restocking, heading around the bar to a frozen Tora. He came around behind him, saying,

“Tora, what’s—“

And that’s when his eyes caught the screen. he froze, watching in horror at the scene playing out before him on Tora’s phone.

“Did you get all that?” Gyu heard Lang. “Good. Send it to him.”

Good.

Send it to him.

Send it to him.

Send it to him.

“Oh my god.” Gyu breathed, repulsed by what he had just seen. “That sick fucking bastard.”

The doors to Ice Bar burst open, and Tora glanced over his shoulder mechanically, seeing Vincent, flanked by two of his men standing there. Vincent’s mouth was set into a grim line, well aware of what had happened, obviously intending to intervene.

“Let’s not make any rash decisions.” Vincent smoothly suggested. Tora pushed the bar seat back.

“Tora, calm down.” Vincent warned him. Tora looked at Vincent with absolutely no expression on his face, a cold, cruel mask slid into place.

“You knew this would happen, and you made her go anyway.” Tora said quietly.

“No, I didn’t know.”

“You’re a brilliant tactician. Lang is your average thug. You knew he would seek out revenge, and what sweeter revenge than to do that to Poppy. You knew this was coming and you let it happen.”

“Tora, you crossed the line first.”

Tora whirled on Vincent to the sound of multiple guns clicking in the room.

“Are ya telling me,” Tora was shaking, “That me beating the shit out of him for disrespecting my girl in the first place justifies him raping and mutilating Poppylan?”

He was not doing well holding it together. He was physically shaking, his eyes wide open in rage.

“Well, not in so many words.” Vincent grumbled, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Oh shit.” Gyu whispered and Tora snapped, snatching up the man on the left side of Balthuman and throwing him with godlike strength at the gunman on the right side of Balthuman.

Vincent looked relatively bored at the show of frustration, as Tora bowed up, heading toward Vincent.

“Put him down.” Vincent called, and Tora looked at him questioningly, only to feel a dart to the neck. He whirled to see a gunman standing on the balcony, lower his weapon, effectively knocking Tora on his knees and putting him down for the count.

***

The world spun into existence as Tora’s eyelids fluttered open, feeling as though he had been hit by a truck. All at once, everything came rushing back to Tora, and he lurched out of bed, headed straight for the toilet, and vomited several times.

He realized he was in the same hotel room he had been in the night before, and the images of what he had seen on his cell phone were seared into his mind. He his stomach lurched and he vomited yet again.

“Welcome back.” He heard a low voice grumble from the darkness of the bedroom. 

Vincent.

Tora glanced over his shoulder to see the lamp on the nightstand turn on, and Vincent sat alone in the room, one leg crossed over his lap as he rubbed his mouth in thought.

“Where is she?” Tora growled. Vincent glanced over at him and said,

“The hospital.”

“And her condition?” Tora pressed.

“Fine. Stable. They’ve sedated her per my request when I met with you eight hours ago. stitched up her wounds on her arms. Checked her abdomen—no internal bleeding—given her levenorgestrel.”

“Leve—what?”

“Plan B.” 

“He—he—“

“Yes. He orgasmed inside of her.”

Tora found himself pacing back and forth, and he nearly vomited again, hearing Vincent explain this to him. 

“I’ve also arranged to have a therapist present for Poppy when she returns back to work. Clearly, I’ve assigned someone else to take her work while she’s recovering.” Vincent told Tora. Just then, Vincent’s phone pinged, and he glanced at it quickly, then back at Tora.

“There’s somewhere I need you to accompany me. I don’t want you to argue with me, ask questions, or intervene.” Vincent explained. “Get dressed.”

***

Tora and Vincent pulled up to the welcome center, where they both got out, and headed immediately to the viewing chamber.

Once they got there, they were greeted by several high ranking members. It was a black tie event. Something special was happening tonight. Tora shook hands with several members, kissing the cheeks of the ladies, going through the motions as one of the clan elders called everyone to be seated.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome.” He bore a striking resemblance to Vincent, but older, and a little shorter. “Tonight, we celebrate the initiation of one of the finest members we have had the privilege of inaugurating.

“In true tradition, one of the ceremonies will be performed to solidify and signify this honorable entrant’s new role and transition into the Balthuman Family. Vincent has chosen, what I believe to be, the perfect one: Blood In, Blood Out.”

Applause and appreciative murmurs filled the room, as Tora glanced over at Vincent, who gave a tiny wave. He had seen several ceremonies in his lifetime with Balthuman, but had yet to see this one. He didn’t even know what it was, but most ended with the honored guest being tattooed and a lot of booze and drugs. Whoever was being officially sworn in must have really impressed the clan leaders because this ceremony was a rare honor.

“Many may be wondering why Vincent chose Blood In, Blood Out as tonight’s ceremony since it’s a bit more brutal than the rest.”

The lights on the warehouse floor came up and Tora saw a figure in a hood on his knees in the middle of the floor. To the right, another man, the tattoo artist sat. To the left, a man sat holding a golden bowl.

“When a great treachery befalls the Balthuman Organization, one such as the one our man in the middle performed, he must be made an example of.”

The man holding the golden bowl ripped the hood off of the head of the man in the middle to reveal Lang. Vincent glanced over at Tora, a small smile on his face as Tora sat forward in his chair. Tora looked back at Vincent in shock.

A light snapped on in the back of the warehouse and three hooded figures emerged. They approached Lang with a slow grace. The figure on the left took the hand of the inductee and kissed it, moving off to the shadowed corner of the room. The one on the right, came around in front of the middle figure, and knelt, producing a tiny, golden dagger.

“Our inductee was given a choice of many weapons significant to the Balthuman family in order to complete the intimation process. The inductee has chosen a fine weapon to symbolize their entrance and commitment to the organization in this ceremony—the Balthuman Blade. 

“The gold on the Balthuman Blade symbolizes the rich history of the Balthuman family, with Balthuman being a derivative of the common form, Balthazar or, protector of the kings the gold also symbolizes the star of Bethlehem, which led the three wise men to the newborn king.

“The dagger itself is a testament to underestimation—the theory that lethality is defined by the strike itself and not the striker. In this case, the dagger is a quaint object that does not stir nor provoke fear, but in the hands of a worthy individual can be of a most hellish consequence.”

The hooded figure in the middle took the dagger, presenting the back of their striking hand for the hooded presenter to kiss. The presenter stepped off to the right in the shadows, leaving only the hooded inductee and Lang on the floor. The inductee unhooked the cape, revealing a midriff top—the sweetheart neckline dipping low into her cleavage, the bodice gold, and, in the center, a giant red ruby glittered in the light.

A black skirt hung low on her hips, a glittering gold belt holding the sheer maxi skirt up, gold glittering gladiator sandals adorning her feet. Tora noticed that a large patch was placed on her abdomen that had bled through, staining it a bright red, a few drops of blood seeping out of the bandage.

Her arms were adorned with large, golden arm vambrances, rubies scattered throughout the armored piece. Tora could vaguely see two large white patches adorning her arms, and those too were stained a bright bloody red.

Around the room, glasses of red wine were being handed out, and Tora took the glass absentmindedly, feeling Vincent’s curious gaze on him the entire time.

She reached up, gently pulling the hood back, and Tora almost fell out of his chair in shock. Poppy stood confidently in the middle of the warehouse, the hooded cloak falling to the ground.

Her hair was pulled back into a half updo, curls spreading around her shoulders in a cascade of beauty, skin dusted with a glittering gold highlight, bold red lips, long dark lashes, a gold chain across her forehead.

“This inductee has proven herself to be a worthy individual, scorned by a shameful prospect. Blood in; blood out.” The man finished, lifting his glass of red wine as he said the final line.

“Blood in; blood out.” Everyone in the room repeated, holding their glass of wine up, but pausing, not drinking the wine quite yet.

“Isn’t she exquisite?” Vincent whispered. Tora was in too much shock to say anything, but he turned to look at Vincent.

“I promised you when you were a young boy that I take care of my family.” Vincent told him. “And I will keep that promise.”

Tora turned back to the ceremony and watched a calm and collected Poppy take the dagger in her hands, which trembled despite her best efforts to hold them steady.

Lang looked up at her and smirked.

Tora saw Poppy’s breath increasing rapidly, her face contorting into an angry sneer. She straddled his lap, and whispered something into his ear, immediately seeing the smirk on his face disappear, his eyes growing wide.

Poppy took the dagger and stabbed it with unrelenting fearlessness into his neck just under his left ear, leaning back and dragging that dagger slowly across his neck, blood splattering in her face and on her body as she continued carving up to his right ear. She withdrew the dagger, her breath still coming rapidly, as she stood up, facing the observation booth, unrecognizable, blood dripping down her body.

The man with the golden bowl approached Poppy and she ripped the dagger across her hand, spilling a mix of her blood and Lang’s into the bowl.

“Blood in; blood out.” The crowd said again, this time, drinking the red wine. Tora put the cup to his lips, drinking, hoping to god he was having a bad dream.

Poppy’s face held several emotions, a confusion and smattering of feelings fleeting across it. At last, one emotion seemed to click for Poppy, and slowly, her lips curved into a wry, sinister smile.

“Absolutely exquisite.” Vincent whispered.


	20. The Day After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Alright, that last chapter was rough, and here, we get to see the consequences of it.
> 
> Healthy conversations ftw!!!

20.  
There was something unshakably visceral about watching Poppy drag that blade across Lang’s neck. For Tora, he was sure that this was all just a bad nightmare. Seeing all that blood on Poppy and knowing that she had spilled it herself—it made him feel so many different emotions:

Curiosity. He wondered if she had gone into this willingly, and if she had, when had she gotten to the point that killing became an option for her? If she hadn’t, why wasn’t she forced to kill Lang? 

Envy. He felt strangely jealous that Poppy was the one who ended Lang rather than he himself. On the way to the welcome center, Tora had imagined all of the ways that he wanted to kill Lang, and he took special pleasure in considering drawing and quartering as his preferred death for Lang.

Uncertainty. He wondered how Poppy would feel after taking a life. Would he lose her to her emotions again? Would he have to fight to keep her because she was afraid? Would she change and become more like the others who garnered a taste for blood?

Arousal. There was something so primordial about looking at Poppy and watching her have the confidence to take matters into her own hands, particularly dressed the way that she was.

The elevator doors dinged, drawing Tora out of his thoughts as he turned to look at them, seeing Poppy step out of the elevator to a rapturous round of applause. She had cleaned herself, her hair been redone, and her bandages changed. He could tell that she felt a little out of her element in this black tie room with all of these ladies and gentlemen dressed to the nines, while she was wearing that skimpy little ceremonial outfit.

Poppy made her way around the room, wincing every once in a while to greet all of the important clan members, who absolutely fawned over her. He saw Vincent saunter over to Poppy, who paused for a moment, and then allowed him to kiss her on both cheeks, clearly complimenting her. 

Tora watched Vincent pull a long, velvet box, tied with a red ribbon out of his jacket pocket, handing it to Poppy. Poppy opened it and fumbled with it in shock, much to Vincent’s delight and the delight of those around her. She shook her head, politely refusing to accept the gift, but Vincent insisted, taking the box and removing, what looked to be, a large diamond necklace from the box, brushing her hair out of the way and clasping it on her.

She nodded in thanks, a smile on her face that seemed to disappear as she walked away, seemingly in a daze, pushing the balcony door open and heading out there alone. Tora put his hands in his pockets, and followed her out.

“I’m sorry.” Poppy mentioned, turning back, “I just needed a moment to—“

She stopped dead seeing Tora standing in front of her, hands still in his pockets, silently waiting for her to set the tone for the conversation, wary of what state of mind she might be in.

“Tora,” she seemed surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Vincent invited me personally.” Tora told her quietly, taking his hands out of his pockets and leaning on the balcony railing next to Poppy. A moment of silence passed between the two of them before Poppy put her head down, saying,

“You must be shocked.”

Tora nodded, but it scared him even more that she seemed to be more worried about him. He wasn’t quite sure if she recognized or had allowed herself to feel those emotions quite yet.

“Were you forced to do this?” Tora asked her, wanting to get the story straight in his head—to understand what he had just seen.

“No.” Poppy said confidently. “Vincent came to visit me in the hospital before they sedated me. He explained that Lang had broken clan rules and that this specific offense was punishable by death. He told me one way or another Lang was going to die, but it was my choice by whose hands.”

“Why didn’t you let me do it?” Tora inquired. Poppy looked over at him, and he met her eyes, turning toward her.

“Because I wanted to do it.” Poppy quietly told him. Tora raised his eyebrows in shock, surprised that it was actually her own doing.

“Vincent let me know that he was impressed by the progress I had made as a trainee and shocked by my choice to handle the situation myself. He asked me if he could honor me in a ceremony, and I agreed.

“He explained to me that you were going to make a beeline for Lang. Said that you would kill him yourself if someone didn’t stop you. I didn’t want you to worry, so I asked them to keep you out of it for the time being.

“That was before Vincent realized there was a video. And when the video was shown to Vincent, he was pissed. He told me that I was part of his family and that families take care of each other and what Lang did was an atrocity.”

“It was.” Tora agreed, keeping his distance from Poppy.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine.” Poppy told him, touching his arm gently.

“Nothing about this is fine.” Tora growled. 

“Well it’s going to have to be for now because fine is the best I can muster up while I’m in front of all of these people.” Poppy forced a strained smile.

“Poppy, if you want to talk—“ 

“I do.” She cut him off. “But not here. Not now.”

“Hotel room?” He gently suggested.

“Hotel room.” Poppy agreed, and she took a deep breath, steadying herself, and went back inside.

***

Tora left the party early, unable to stand to see her faking it the way that she was even though he knew she needed some time to process everything that just happened.

He sat at the desk in the room, lighting up a cigarette and taking a big drag in. He ran his fingers through his hair, wondering how everything was going to go down tonight when he heard the door click open. He glanced over his shoulder, and seeing Poppy walk in, put his cigarette out and stood up.

Poppy had changed into clothes that reminded him of who she used to be— shorts and a printed tank top, bandages covering her arms and wrists. She paused for a moment, looking at him, an awkward silence passing between them.

“Can we just lay down together?” Poppy asked him, her voice barely above a whisper. Tora nodded, pulling his shirt off, and scooting into bed. Poppy unhooked her necklace and bra, taking them both off and putting them on the heavy dresser. She crawled toward him and straight into his arms with a heavy sigh. She closed her eyes listening to Tora’s heartbeat, before she looked up at him, asking,

“Do you think differently of me?”

“No.” He told her, pulling the pins out of her hair and letting her hair fall around her shoulder. “But I think ya are different now.”

“Am I—does this make me a bad person?” She asked him.

“Do ya think I’m a bad person?” Tora asked, looking down at her.

“Never.” Poppy smiled.

“Then there’s no way you could be.” Tora said. He watched Poppy’s smile fade away for a moment, seeming troubled.

“I—killed someone.” The words echoed in the room, hanging strangely, floating in the empty space between them. Tora nodded.

“And I enjoyed it when it happened.” Poppy felt a strange, sick feeling in her stomach, and she clutched herself closer to him. Tora looked down at her, his arms squeezing around her a little more.

“Poppy, what he did to you was sadistic. He made you feel helpless. He hurt you. It’s natural to want to get him back for what he did.” Tora told her. “It wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t want to get him back in some way.”

“But I—I liked killing him. It made me feel—“ Poppy searched her brain, trying to nail down the right word.

“Empowered.” He finished for her. She glanced up at him, and he looked down at her. She propped herself up on her elbow getting herself eye to eye with him.

“Yeah.” She whispered. “Like—for once, I had the control, and being in control of him after what he did; regaining some of that back just felt like I was taking back something that had been taken from me.”

“I know what ya mean.” Tora agreed, turning over on his side. “It’s only a problem if you feel like that’s the way ya gonna solve all ya problems.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that when things get tough, which they will, ya don’t think that the only way out is through murder because it’ll be tempting, and Vincent isn’t above it or against it unless his own clan is involved.”

Poppy considered what he was saying, nodding to show she was listening.

“I’m not even sure I could do it again.” 

“Ya could.” Tora told her. “Right now, you’re thinking ya couldn’t because everything inside you says what ya did was wrong. But then you’ll realize, because ya here, in this organization, you’re protected. It’s tempting. Vincent will clean up the mess for ya, and no one outside of the clan will ever know.”

Tora reached out to her, touching her face, looking in her eyes,

“But you would know. And you’ll remember every single face.”

“Do you remember them all?” Poppy asked. 

“Yeah.” Tora sighed. “Every single one of em.”

“Did they all deserve it like Lang did?” Poppy asked.

“Not all of em. Some of em it was just easier. Some of em asked for it instead of having to deal with inevitable shit coming their way. Some just got out of hand or I got angry and lost my temper, and they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. As a kid, I really had to work at controlling my temper. It’s still something that’s hard for me.” Tora explained.

Poppy nodded, falling silent again, deep in thought. Tora gently picked up her hands, looking at the bandages adorning her arms. He pushed himself out of bed and took her to the bathroom.

Tora gently pulled her bandages off of her arms, taking her arm and examining it for the first time.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Poppy told him. He kissed her hands, grabbing a washcloth and antibacterial soap and gently cleaning her wounds. She studied him intently as he worked with a gentleness to tend to her wounds. 

From there, he gently ran his hands over her stomach, carefully removing the bandage on her stomach. Poppy winced,

“That one, on the other hand, does.”

Tora smiled. He went back into the room, and came back with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He guided her body back a little, lying against the tub. He unscrewed the cap and poured the liquid over her wound as it fizzed and sizzled. Gently, he leaned down and blew on the wound to take the edge off of the pain. Poppy leaned her head back against the tub. 

Tora planted a gentle kiss near the wound, trailing chaste kisses up to her neck, over her jaw, and finally on her lips before helping her up.

***

Tora sat on the edge of the bed, cigarette in hand. He took a long drag of the cigarette, blowing it out slowly and then looking over his shoulder at Poppy, who was resting.

He stood, heading over to the dresser where Poppy had deposited her bra and necklace from the night before. Glancing down, he picked up the necklace that Vincent had given her to look at it:

The chain was short, almost more of a choker than a necklace. It was gold, just like the color of the dagger that Poppy had used, but the pendant is what made it spectacular: a large diamond glittered in the center of it, accented with a halo of rubies. He looked over at Poppy again, gently setting the necklace down, before heading out onto the balcony to brood.

“I’ll never be able to give her those things.” He thought to himself, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Hell, I don’t even know what she likes...besides...”

His mouth curved into a devious smile as he thought about how her body responded to him when they were together. Almost immediately, a flash of Lang burned into his mind, and he dropped his cigarette in shock and shot up off of the balcony seat.

He paced for a moment, putting his hands on his hips, before taking a deep breath.

“Alright, pull it together.” Hr grumbled to himself. “That fucker’s long dead, and that’s the last time she’ll be going anywhere without me.”

He bent down, picking up his cigarette, hands shaking, and putting it back between his lips for another drag. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Poppy moving in the bedroom, dressing herself. He gave her the space to dress in peace while he finished his cigarette and then headed back inside to find her sitting on the bed slipping on her Louboutins. Tora crossed his arms, taking a good look at her: Poppy was dressed in a pencil skirt with a pink top, ruffles on the sleeves. She wore the necklace Vincent he given her as well as a smart watch on her wrist. 

****

“Going somewhere?” Tora asked suddenly and I jumped, reacting to the sharp abdominal pain, my hand went flying down gingerly over my stomach wound.

“Yes—no—I—“ I stammered nervously. I looked up at him, all arms crossed and haughty.

“Don’t lie.” I told myself gingerly.

“Yes.” It was simple, but all that was really needed. 

“I see.” Tora’s arms fell to his sides, and he made his way over to the hanger where his suit was. “And were ya hoping to just leave quietly so I wouldn’t notice you were gone?”

“Yyyyyes?” It came out as more of a long drawn out question because that time I really did want to lie, but as brilliant as all of my other responses and actions had been over the last few days, I thought trying something new might yield better results. 

Tora’s mouth twitched as he fought back a smile at my response.

“Yes, there’s no way I wouldn’t notice my girl missing from the hotel bed.” He sarcastically told me. “Well, we can’t stay cooped up in here forever. Where are we going?” 

He took his shirt off, and I felt a bit of dribble on my chin as he turned to look me in my stunned state. 

“Words.” I thought, panicked. “Say words! Come on words!”

For a moment, he felt confused at the stunned look on my face, but when he realized the look was about his body, well...

“See something ya like, sweetheart?” He asked me, maintaining his distance.

“Yes!” Much more enthusiastic. See? Telling the truth was getting easier every time. For a moment, he smiled, seeming like he was going to press on with his flirting, but instead, I watched that smile turn into a frown, his face brooding for a moment.

“Poppy, can I ask you some questions?” He quietly inquired. I had a feeling I knew where this was going, but I nodded anyway. Tora sat in a chair across from me, near the dresser.

“When ya look at me or think about me, really think about me, does what happened with Lang make you feel differently toward me?” He asked, leaning in to listen. I thought about it for a moment. When he kissed me in the bathroom or when he flirted with me, did I feel different?

“No.” I answered honestly. 

“Do you still think about me sexually?” Tora asked. I could tell he was still trying to understand the situation just like I was—that he was afraid he would do something wrong to mess things up.

“I do.” I told him. He nodded, taking that in. I approached him sitting in his lap.

“I still find you incredibly,” and I planted a kiss on one cheek

“Incredibly,” and I kissed him on the other cheek

“Sexy.” And I put my lips against his, intending to deepen the kiss, but Tora cut the kiss short, kissing me on the cheek.

“Tora,” I turned his face toward mine, “I know that what happened to me—it scared you. It affected you just as much as it affected me, but I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of ya.” He told me, brushing my hair out of my face. “I just don’t want to hurt ya, and I wanna do things at your own pace. Hell, I don’t want to make you afraid of me.”

“I could never be afraid of you.” I told him, taking his hands.

“You’re allowed to touch me here.” I placed his hands on my legs, trailing them up to my thighs and stopping.

“And here.” I whispered against his ear.

“And here.” I moved to my inner thighs, grazing over my womanhood, before guiding him up to my stomach.

“And here.” He kissed my neck as I guided him through the rest of my body.

“There is no one in the world that could ever make me feel as safe as you make me feel. And there’s certainly no one that I love more than I love you.” I smiled.

“Fair enough.” He told me. “But I still want to just back off for a while. When ya ready, we can do that, but it’s you that’s gotta initiate it. I want you to be sure ya ready though.”

I nodded, planting another kiss on his cheek, before saying,

“Thank you.”

“In the meantime, where we going?” Tora asked me, and my smile disappeared.

“Well, I’m going to a business meeting.” I peeked over at him. He was looking at me sideways, completely unimpressed.

“And when you say ‘I’ you mean ‘we.’ You can bet your ass you won’t be going anywhere alone on Balthuman business for a long fucking time.” He grumbled.

“But—“

“No, end of conversation.” Tora grumbled, gently standing as I slid out of his lap, and he moved to get ready while I pouted at him.

“Stop pouting at me.” He smirked, then he reached up and pinched my cheek. “It’s like a cute little hamster who fell out of her hamster ball.”

“You little...” I launched myself at him, poking and prodding him.

“No! Stop!” He complained. “I’m working here.”


	21. The Proposition Revisited

21.

Tora and Poppy entered the restaurant, and he led her up to the second level, where a group of men in suits sat together. Vincent, who headed the table, noticed Tora rather quickly and stood to greet the two of them.

“Tora, Poppy, what an absolute delight!” Vincent smiled, shaking both Poppy’s and Tora’s hand and leading them to the table where a few of the other gentlemen glanced over in their direction.

“I’m pleasantly surprised that you’re here.” Vincent sat, folding his hands. Tora seemed a little confused at that statement as he pulled Poppy’s chair out for her, scooting it back in.

“Why’s that?” Tora grumbled, eyeing her suspiciously as he sat down next to her.

“Because I didn’t invite Miss Wilkes.” Vincent explained.

“If you didn’t invite her, then who did?” Tora looked around the table, and most of the heads around the table immediately looked down and away from Tora.

“I did.” A voice piped up at the end of the table, and Tora set that lethal focus on the ever so lovely Scharch sitting at the end of the table. Tora wanted to crawl across the table and beat the shit out of that fucker for multiple deserving reasons, but instead settled on clearing his throat and putting his napkin into his lap.

“I assume you have a very good reason for extending an invitation to Miss Wilkes?” Vincent smoothly asked him, clearly not happy about this change of events.

“Sorry, but I thought that the newest member of the business sector would want to get a head start on one of her first assignments.” Scharch grabbed a breadstick from the center of the table and took a huge bite out of it.

“I do!” Poppy all but shouted, startling a few people at the table. “I mean. I do.” 

“That settles it then.” Scharch beamed, munching on the breadstick.

“Like hell it does.” Tora sneered. Scharch stopped chewing for a moment and then his expression contorted into a devious grin.

“This must have something to do with Lang.” Scharch said easily, pointing the half eaten breadstick at Tora. A few of the men at the table shifted uncomfortably, and Tora visibly tensed up next to Poppy. 

“Scharch.” One of the men whispered trying to warn him off of the path he was on, but he just waved him away.

“Look, no offense, but short and pudgy isn’t really what I look for when I’m looking to bang.” Scharch grinned reassuringly, but it seemed to make things worse because the next thing Poppy knew, Tora had launched himself out of his seat with a scathing,

“Listen here, motherfu—“

“That’s quite enough, gentlemen.” Vincent intervened at the head of the table. Scharch grabbed another breadstick and waved at Tora with it, beaming at him. Tora plopped down in his seat, Poppy reaching over to gently squeeze his thigh to calm him down before she wryly said,

“Well, isn’t it lucky for me I’m not at the top of Scharch’s to do list? My god! I don’t know how I ever possibly could have made the choice between him and Tora.”

Someone near the end of the table nearly choked on their drink, the guy next to him patting him vigorously on the back. Vincent seemed completely amused by everything going on, and Scharch’s smile faded into more of a sneer.

“Now that my and Scharch’s sexual preferences are out of the way, maybe we can talk business?” Poppy suggested. There was a loud rumble of assent amongst all of the men who were thankful the awkwardness of the conversation was finally over.

“Now then, let’s review the details.” Vincent sat back in his chair, waiting for someone to jump in. Most of the men focused on something particularly interesting on their plate or focused on something in the room. An awkward silence passed for about a minute, Vincent becoming more and more agitated at each passing second.

“The bar is owned by Aito Tanaka, a 60-year-old man intent on keeping the club to pass down to his family members. Tanaka is aware that the bar itself is in dire need of repair and refurbishment since the style of the bar reflects the clubbing scene of the late 1970s, and, despite being in the neighboring Goruden neighborhood, which was well known for hosting most of the elite members of society from the time period of the 1970s to late 1980s, the present clientele in the area is much younger. 

“That being said, Ares Street is expanding and hasn’t quite hit the area of the Goruden neighborhood yet, making it prime real estate for investors in the Ares Street neighborhood looking to monopolize on key properties that could bring in quite the profit. The challenge is making Tanaka’s club/bar profitable not only by Goruden standards but by the standards of Ares Street as well.” Poppy closed the leather portfolio, looking up to a crowd of men who sat in stunned silence. Tora even stared at her, impressed by her analysis of the project.

“Bravo, Miss Wilkes.” Vincent smiled, more than impressed by her knowledgeable display. “So, then, how do we make it profitable by both standards? And how do we snatch the property up from a stubborn man with familial obligations?”

“We don’t.” Poppy simply stated. Scharch burst into laughter at the end of the table.

“She—she’s new. I don’t think she understands how this game works.” He smiled, wiping the tears from his eyes. Vincent seemed humored by Scharch’s reaction while Tora fumed silently next to her.

“Mr. Balthuman,” Poppy began, and Vincent turned his attention toward Poppy, “when you interviewed me and asked me to sell you a pen, I gave you a very good reason why you should buy it. I explained how the pen had changed your business and made it personal to you, and still at the end of the pitch, you told me simply that you weren’t in the market for a pen because you had everything you needed electronically.”

Vincent thought for a moment and then nodded, saying,

“Go on.”

“So, what I learned from you in that moment was that nothing that I did, no trick that I pulled, no promise that I made would sway you to buy the pen. So, I moved on to someone who would buy the pen and who did need the pen.

“Vincent is an excellent businessman. I’m sure that whatever propositions he made to Tanaka were not lacking, so if we want that bar, we need to think outside ownership and more toward partnership.” Poppy explained.

“That’s a terrible decision.” Scharch laughed. “Why would we want to partner with a business that’s effectively run itself into the ground? Logistically and in terms of profit, how does that make sense?”

“Mr. Balthuman has turned a profit for several run down businesses in the past. The big difference was that all of these bars were already in Ares Street. This is the first one that isn’t, and the way that we approach Tanaka could make or break this deal.” Poppy explained.

Scharch shook his head and Vincent looked down at the table in thought, putting his hand over his mouth.

“Alright,” Balthuman said, reaching a decision, “let’s see which one of you gets the business, then.”

“Sir?” Scharch seemed utterly confused.

“You’re both going to present propositions to Tanaka, and one of you will walk away with a deal and the right to say that you’re the better businessman or woman. We’ll call it a friendly competition between a seasoned veteran and the new blood, but the winner will receive a handsome bonus.” Balthuman said.

“Excellent.” Scharch smiled. “That settles it then.”

The table seemed to go back to a cheerful setting once again.

“Oh, and Poppy?” Scharch called out. “When I buy my new Bentley with the bonus that Balthuman gives me, you’re the first person I’m taking for a ride.”

“If that does happen,” Tora cut in, “I’ll be sitting in the front seat with you, pretty boy.”

Scharch blew Tora a kiss across the table, and they all settled into their meal. 

***

Tora sat at the Ice Bar in front of Gyu, a glass of whiskey in hand as he half-listened to Gyu chatter about the bar. It was strange being somewhere without Poppy, whom he had left to prepare her proposal for Tanaka’s club, for the first time, and he couldn’t quite stop thinking about whether or not the balcony door was locked or if the windows could be easily broken into or if the door to the room had a deadbolt. It was all things he’d never considered for himself before.

Around him, the night life of Ice Bar was pulsing with an electrifying zeal as the weekend crowd was filled to brimming with the rich elite and their beautiful faces and bodies. The dresses were shorter, the suits were tailored tighter, and the heels were a lot higher.

“Bruv,” he heard a cold greeting beside him as he slid into the bar seat. Tora glanced over at Ramsey with disinterest and took a sip of his drink. “I got the report you asked for.”

Ramsey slid a plain Manila folder across the bar, and Tora took it, nodding at Ramsey. Gyu slid a dark beer to Ramsey, who nodded in thanks.

“Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot. I’m a fuckin shit talkin bastard. Always have been. But I like your girl.” Ramsey told him, Tora cast a sharp glance in his direction. “And every time I think about what happened, it makes me sick that I couldn’t get in there sooner.”

Ramsey looked down at his beer and took a big swig of it, and Tora nodded.

“You did what ya could when ya could. Vincent said just Poppy in there, and ya followed orders. I don’t blame ya.” Tora grumbled, flipping open the manila folder and looking at the reports.

“I didn’t have to do too much go get these reports. Kept it quiet so no one knew there were sharks in the water.” Ramsey explained, taking another swig of beer.

“Thanks.” Tora said, placing a bill on the table.

“Nah, bruv. I don’t want your money.” Ramsey told him. 

“Alright then.” Tora took the money, and put it back in his pocket. “What do you want?”

“I want to cut all the little fingers off of the hands that held her down and jam them in their pretty mouths. Then, I want to cut their hands off. You can kill them, guv. Just let me play with them a little.” Tora swirled his whiskey around, considering the proposition. 

“We leave at two.” Tora assented darkly, taking a sip of his whiskey. He lit up a cigarette, and took a drag, reading more about the two men in the file.

“I’ll be there in my Sunday shoes.” Ramsey grinned, chugging the rest of his beer, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, and heading out to prepare for the night.

“Tora.” Gyu said, and Tora looked up at him. He knew that Gyu would try to talk him out of it. That he would tell him there were others ways to get them back. That an eye for an eye leaves us both blind or some shit like that.

“Yeah, Gyu?” He grumbled, finishing off his whiskey. 

“Make sure they suffer for what they did to her.” Gyu calmly said, hanging the martini glasses upside down in the rack above his head. Tora nodded, shocked at his request, and then left the table to attend to business. 

Tora crossed the lobby, heading to the gentleman who worked the front desk.

“Tora, it’s a pleasure to see you.” The gentleman greeted him. “How may I help you?”

“I’m leaving the hotel on business, and I won’t be back until later tonight. Poppy is in the room working on her proposal. In an hour, could you please call Poppy and let her know I’ve been called away on business and let her know I’ll be back later tonight?” Tora asked.

“Certainly, sir.” The gentleman smiled, writing a note to himself. Tora nodded, turning to head toward the exit.

“Tora.” The gentleman called, and Tora turned back around to face him. “Be careful, sir. I hear a storm is heading this way tonight.”

A storm certainly was heading toward Ares Street tonight, and Tora was the eye of that storm. Tora nodded in thanks and left the lobby.

****

I was just finishing up the last bit of my proposal when the hotel phone rang. I looked up, feeling like I had been underwater and was just emerging for air for the first time. What time was it?

I glanced over at the clock: 9:00. It had been almost two hours since Tora went down to the bar and hadn’t been back. I pushed myself back and picked up the phone:

“Miss Poppy? This is the front desk. Tora asked me to let you know that he’s been called out for business, but he will be back later tonight.”

“Thank you.” I said, putting the phone down. I headed back to the desk. I flipped my phone over—no text messages from Tora. It was strange of him to ask the front desk to tell me he would be gone rather than he himself telling me or texting me. 

Either way, I needed to finish the proposal. Outside the window, a flash of lightning and a low roll of thunder grabbed my attention. I sighed, hoping Tora was safe with whatever he was doing.

***

The last screams of the final man were silenced as Tora pulled the trigger on the gun. He was careful not to get any blood on him. He whipped out his phone, dialed and number, and said,

“I need room service. Sharing location now.”

Ramsey leaned against the wall of the crumbling building wiping off the blade that he had used to carry out his end of the bargain. The dripping of water from the storm outside and the buzzing of the fluorescent lighting were the only thing breaking the silence between in the room as they waited for room service to arrive.

“How’s your girl holding up?” Ramsey asked quietly, still tinkering with his blade. Tora glanced over his shoulder dismissively at him and mumbled,

“Seems fine.”

Ramsey nodded.

“When I was younger, my sister dated a bunch of real fucked up blokes.” Ramsey explained. “She was strung out on lots of drugs. Me mum wasn’t really around. Dad was a fucking waste of life, so she rolled with a bad crowd. Met this guy one day; I knew there was something off about him. He seemed too nice; always bought her things; never asked for anything. Seemed to be a real stand up guy.”

Tora leaned against the wall, listening.

“One night, he invited my sister over for a party. Drugged her. Raped her. Kicked her to the curb.” Ramsey explained.

“After that, a lot of shit changed. Yeah, she seemed fine alright. Stopped doing the drugs. Stopped hanging out with the crowd she was in. Everything was great until she stopped doing everything. Sorta just sat around the house all day. Wouldn’t eat. Wouldn’t sleep.” He told Tora.

“I got into a street gang pretty soon after. I wanted to see for myself how the business was done—how people got hooked and why. More than anything, I liked feeling invincible. I could fuck up whoever I wanted whenever I wanted, and at the top of my list was that son of a bitch.” Ramsey explained.

“He was easy to find—fucker bought from us all the time. He was more of an addict than I thought. That clean, rich boy act came undone when I found him strung out one night. He remembered me. Told me what a good lay my sister had been. I was right angry at him. Thing was I’d never actually killed anyone.

“Instead, I got a syringe of heroin. Loaded that baby up, and jabbed it right in his little cock. I did it again. And again. And again. Until I knew he was dead. It felt so satisfying—probably how Poppy felt when she fucked up Lang.

“When I got home, I called for my sister. No response. Figured she was sleeping, so I went to bed. Found out the next morning she decided to try to get back into drugs, and it didn’t take.” Ramsey flung his knife down on the floor, watching it move back and forth before picking it up, and repeating the process.

“Did she ever get over it?” Tora asked Ramsey. Ramsey glanced up at him, a small smile playing on his lips.

“In her own way, I think she did.” Ramsey told him. “So, taking on this job with you. Well, it was personal for me too, bruv—for a lot of reasons.”

Tora crossed his arms, glancing over at him.

“Ya know she doesn’t blame you.” He told Ramsey, and Ramsey paused mid-throw.

“Yeah, well, she should.” Ramsey hurled the knife down at the ground with a lot more force. Tora understood where he was coming from and that responsibility he must’ve felt for what happened to her. 

About that time, room service arrived and set to work cleaning up the mess wordlessly. Tora and Ramsey took their leave, heading back to the hotel in silence.

****

The door to the bedroom opened with a gentle sigh, and Tora found Poppy sleeping at the desk, pen in her hand, proposal papers scattered all about the table. He gently took the pen out of her hand, lifted her up, and put her down in the bed.

He pulled his clothes off and headed for the bathroom, turning the shower on, taking the strawberry barrette out of his hair and placing it around his wrist. He sighed, putting his hands out against the wall to feel the warmth of the water falling over his skin, dripping down his back. The gentle rumble of thunder outside made him feel more at ease as he lost himself in his thoughts.

His thoughts focused on Ramsey and their conversation about his sister. 

“Did she ever get over it?”

“In her own way, I think she did.”

He wished he could pry his way into Poppy’s mind to see what was going on in her head. He wished that he could reach in and pluck that memory from her mind so she never had to relive it the way that he did everyday. Lang’s face haunted him, the faces that he made, the sound of his voice. It made him feel sick.

Without warning, he felt a pair of hands wrap around his body, startling him. He whirled around, grabbing the person, who wrapped their legs around his torso, and slammed them into the wall by the neck, looking up to see Poppy up against the wall.

“It’s—good—to see—you too.” Poppy choked out. 

“Holy shit! Poppy! I—I’m sorry!” He breathed out. He took his hand off of her throat, putting his hands under her thighs to support her body, and she breathed a little easier. Tora became acutely aware of her body, legs still wrapped around him and he felt himself react to her.

“It’s not your fault. I snuck up on you. I could tell you were deep in thought, and I didn’t want to pull you out of it. I should’ve known it would scare you.” She said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Let me set you down.” Tora told her, starting to move his hands to set her down, but Poppy locked her legs around his body.

“I don’t want you to set me down,” Poppy smiled, leaning forward to speak into his ear, “but you could move me down a little further.”

Tora looked at her questioningly for a moment before what she was saying clicked.

“Is that a good idea, Poppy? Are you sure you want this?” He asked her.

“You said when I wanted you, I should initiate.” She explained. “Maybe I should be more specific.”

“No, there’s no need to—“

“I want you to put me against this shower wall and fuck me.” 

Tora was speechless. He had never heard her speak this way before, but oh god if it didn’t turn him on. He looked into her eyes, searching for certainty and only saw the darkness of lust in her eyes. He pulled her body close to his, kissing her, and her lips moved against his with a heated fervency.

Slowly, he moved her down.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked her again, and she nodded. At that, he slowly lowered her onto him, watching her reaction to make sure that she was okay. She threw her head back against the shower wall, her cheeks turning pink as she let out a moan of satisfaction.

“Finally.” She breathed. He looked at her questioningly for a moment, and she looked at him, a look of chagrin passing over her face before she sighed,

“It’s been almost three days that I’ve had to go without your body. I was having withdrawals.”


	22. Becoming the Example

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie...I may have cried writing this chapter.

22.

Tora pulled the door open to the black SUV and Poppy stepped out, taking in the location. It seemed like a fairly quiet neighborhood full of a strip of clubs and restaurants. The outside of the building was fairly nondescript: a plain white building with a banner that read “Vice.” Tora moved ahead, sliding open the heavy brown wooden door to reveal a set of stairs heading down into a basement. He and Poppy descended the stairs, the walls a dingy white with paint peeling off the walls, fluorescent lighting buzzing as they got down to the bottom floor.

The bar opened up to a dreamsicle orange explosion around the room, posters covering the walls from top to bottom. 

Several mulberry wooden tables lined the walls along with several wrought iron chairs, the cushions the same dreamsicle orange, many of which were torn and stained.

The bar was a large mulberry wood color, lit yellow stained glass taking up the entire back wall. Several bottles lined the shelf and a thick layer of dust had settled over the shelves and bottles.

“This place looks like shi—“ Tora started to say.

“Welcome.” A voice called from behind the bar. Poppy glanced over at the bar to see an older gentleman seated behind the bar, glass of vodka in his liver spotted hand. Thick coke bottle glasses framed an aging face, white hair combed over to the side, a golden chain adorning his neck situated beneath a green button up Hawaiian shirt. He looked as though he had come from Havana despite his Japanese heritage. 

“Mr. Tanaka?” Poppy called out sweetly.

“Don’t know who else would be here.” The man grumbled. Poppy made her way to the bar, Tora pulling out her seat for her, and she sat down.

“Don’t know why you’re here. I already told that Scharch fellow where he could stick it. Aren’t you from the same company?” He seemed annoyed at Poppy’s presence as he took another sip of his drink.

Tora scanned the bar, making sure to take note of all entrances, exits, and places anyone could be hiding, half listening to the conversation between the two of them.

“We are, but we want drastically different things. Our boss gave us permission to run two different proposals by you to see if you would like either of them.” Poppy explained. Tanaka laughed a hearty laugh at her explanation, and Poppy’s face fell.

“They sent a lovely young lady to try and sway an old man into selling? That’s the drastically different technique?” Tanaka chuckled a little more, taking his glasses off and wiping his eyes with a napkin.

“Not a bad strategy if it’s you.” Tora grumbled quietly enough for Poppy to hear. Poppy flushed a bright red, cleared her throat and smiled,

“Mr. Tanaka. Scharch and many other members of the business believe the best way to turn this business around would be to buy it from you. They insist that you aren’t making a profit and that, unless you sell it to them, there will be no profit made. Is that correct?”

“I think that sums it up nicely.” Mr. Tanaka grumbled.

“But what if we didn’t buy it from you. What if we partnered with you? You would still have a stake in the business, but money would no longer be an object. You would be privy to hundred of resources and experts who study businesses just like yours and know exactly how to help. Not only that, but you would have access to world class designers who know the clientele of the area and can meet the standards of those clientele without losing its authenticity.” Poppy explained, opening her portfolio and pushing it toward Tanaka.

“A partnership?” He looked over his glasses at her suspiciously. “Is this some kind of ploy?”

“No, sir.” Poppy seemed offended at that statement, and Tanaka seemed to have regretted saying it as soon as it came out of his mouth after seeing Poppy’s reaction. 

“I understand better than anyone the importance of family. This is a business that has been in your family for generations. You feel responsible for the success of the company, and it must weigh on you seeing a once thriving business struggling to survive.” Poppy told him. “You don’t want this business line to end with you.”

Tanaka nodded, understanding where she was coming from. He pulled one of Poppy’s business cards out, examining it, and asked,

“How old are you, Poppylan?”

“I’m twenty-one, sir.” Poppy answered.

“Twenty-one.” He smiled, thinking back fondly. “Just getting started. So bright and full of hope. The world is full of good people with good intentions.”

“Sir, if you’ll forgive me for saying so. I am just getting started, and I am full of hope. I do think the world is full of good people, but I know that there are bad people out there too—people who are only out for themselves, stepping on whoever they need to to get to where they are. After all, that’s how most businesses came to be.” Poppy quietly remarked. Tanaka raised his eyebrows at her explanation.

“I don’t want to be one of those people.” Poppy told him. “And I know that will make the road to success a lot more difficult because I’m not willing to hurt people to make my way to the top, but I believe that honesty and integrity is more important than a hard sell.

“If this is not what you want, I’m not going to push you any further, Mr. Tanaka. Truly, I would love nothing more than to help you relive the successes of your glory days, but if you feel like your time has run its course and that’s that, then I’ll gladly walk away. I want nothing more than for you to be happy with the decision that you make so you can live contentedly with knowing you did what you thought was right and that was enough.”

Tanaka was stunned into silence, his eyes watering behind his thick glasses. A proud smile turned the corners of Tora’s lips up as he gazed at Poppy from behind, amazed every time that this little woman could fuel a room with so much power in a matter of minutes.

Mr. Tanaka came around the bar and took Poppy’s hands in his own, looking at her for a moment, before he said,

“What do you see for this club, Miss Poppy?”

And off she went, chattering away about the big visions that she could see, explaining in detail what every room could be and how it could be improved and why, but Tanaka was already won over by her. He followed behind her as she spoke, standing next to Tora as she chattered away. He glanced over at Tora and said,

“She’s a bright young woman.”

“Yes, she is.” Tora agreed. He tried to keep the sentimentality out of his voice, but he couldn’t help it.

“You’re lucky you have her.” Tanaka eyed him.

“Yes. Mr. Balthuman made a very wise decision when—“

“I’m not talking about the company. I’m talking about you.”

Tora was completely caught off guard by this.

“No, sir. I—we—she—“

“It’s written all over your face, boy.” Tanaka chuckled. “Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at her while she was pitching her ideas.”

Tora flushed a bright red hearing Tanaka call him out like that.

“Be good to her, boy. She’s passionate, and she wears her emotions on her sleeve. She’ll love you until the end of time if you let her, but you have to be good to her.” Tanaka told him. 

“How could I not be?” Tora said fondly. Tanaka clapped him on the shoulder, picking up the pace to keep up with Poppy as she prattled on.

***

“Poppy! What a delight to hear from you!” Vincent cooed on the other end of the line. “I just got off of the phone with Scharch, who let me know that the deal with Tanaka didn’t go through. Is your meeting with Tanaka already over?”

“Yes, sir.” Poppy answered. Tora glanced over at her, watching her face as she spoke to Vincent.

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.” Vincent pressed.

“He wants to review the ownership stakes, but he has agreed to a joint ownership. He has signed promissory notes and signed each contract, adding his own notes and terms.” Poppy grinned.

“Very well done, Miss Wilkes. Bring the portfolio by my office with the accompanying contracts, and I will review them and make the necessary adjustments.” Vincent told her.

“Yes sir. We are on our way now.” Poppy smiled, hanging up the phone. 

“Congrats.” Tora smiled.

“Appropriate timing for once.” Poppy teased. Tora rolled his eyes at this, reaching over and grabbing her hand. Poppy looked up at him in shock, surprised that he had just reached over and held her hand like that, and he glanced over at her, a smile playing on his lips.

***

Tora opened the door for Poppy to enter, and Vincent stood, taking the portfolio from her, shaking her hand and congratulating her.

“Very well done, Miss Wilkes. I had no doubt in my mind you could do it. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I need to speak to Tora about his next assignment.” Vincent smiled, but that smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Poppy knew something was off, and her body immediately tensed, glancing over at Tora, who nodded to her. Poppy realized right away that Vincent hadn’t called them to his office because of her but because of Tora.

“Now! Miss Wilkes.” Vincent abruptly said, and Poppy jumped. She took one last look at Tora and quietly headed out of the room.

“I heard some rather interesting news today.” Vincent was pacing, running his hand over his mouth, trying to dial back his frustration. Tora remained quiet, slipping his hands in his pockets to fidget with his cigarette lighter waiting for Vincent to come out with what the issue was.

“Ambrose and Guevara suddenly went missing last night.” He explained. “They were seen leaving Miracle, and then they just vanished.”

Tora felt a sharp pang of panic in his stomach. He knew Vincent would tie this back to him eventually, but he didn’t think anyone would notice them missing so quickly. They were, after all, still practically underlings.

“I find it such a strange coincidence that these specific men end up missing—particularly because they were the other two men in the room with Lang when Poppy was raped.” Vincent seethed. “And magically they just disappear into the night.”

Tora said nothing, recognizing that anything he said would incense Vincent even more.

“Tell me, Tora,” Vincent grumbled, running his hand through his hair, “was this your doing?”

Tora didn’t say anything for a while. He didn’t need to because Vincent already knew, but the backlash that he knew was coming still made him hesitate. He settled for a simple,

“Yes.”

Because he knew if he lied and Vincent found out, the consequences would be much worse.

“God damn it, Tora!” Vincent flung a glass across the floor, the glass shattering, pieces skittering across the floor.

“How many times have I made it clear that any organization business is to go through me?” Vincent hissed, stalking toward Tora. “And yet here you are doing whatever the fuck you see fit once again.”

He reached back, aiming a hard slap across Tora’s face, and Tora took it, turning his head back and looking down on the floor. He knew this was coming and that there was no way around it, but he’d be damned if the people that did this to Poppy got away scotch free.

“What do I have to do to get it through your thick fucking head?” Vincent jabbed his foot into Tora’s knee, bringing Tora down to the floor on his knees before aiming several kicks into his ribs in a cadence as he seethed,

“You can’t—keep—fucking—going—behind—my back—and doing—whatever—the fuck—you want!”

Tora lay on the floor, cringing, trying to pick himself back up.

“What am I supposed to do now? Everyone is already talking about it. You fucking reckless idiot!” Vincent aimed a sharp kick to his face, Tora’s nose bleeding profusely.

“You’ve left me no choice.” Vincent growled. “I have to make an example of you.” 

“You gonna kill me?” Tora grunted, picking himself off of the ground. “Put me down like a dog? Wasn’t that what you said?”

A vein in Vincent’s head popped out hearing Tora say that.

“I see Poppy has been speaking to you about our conversations. I’ll have to make sure to teach her how to keep mum.” Vincent growled, and Tora cast a sharp look in his direction. “And of course I’m not going to kill you. But I will make damn sure you don’t forget.” 

At that, the doors burst open and two men grabbed Tora, dragging him out of the room.

“Wait a minute! What—what’s going on? Why are you doing this?” Poppy was screaming as they drug him away. Vincent ran his hands through his hair again, glancing at Poppy as she looked at him for reasoning. At that, Vincent closed the door right in her face.

***

Poppy rushed after the group of men who were dragging Tora out, who seemed to go willingly all things considered.

“Wait!” She screamed. “WAIT!”

But they threw him in the back of a black SUV and took off like a shot. 

“Oh shit.” She breathed hard. “Oh shit!”

Her hands fumbled in her pockets, shaking as they produced her cell phone. Quickly, she scrolled through her list, finding Ramsey’s number.

“Love, you have to stop calling me at home. My wife’s getting suspicious.” Ramsey answered.

“Cut the shit. I need help.” Poppy nearly cried into the phone.

***

Ramsey drove like a fucking maniac. He sped around corners, heading for the welcome center as quickly as possible. Poppy gripped the sides of the car in panic.

“You’re going to get us killed!” Poppy shrieked as they sped through a red light, narrowly avoiding a few cars passing through an intersection.

“Aw, come now, love. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Ramsey laughed, jerking the wheel hard and to the right, into a side street heading toward the warehouse.

Ramsey’s car screeched to a halt and Poppy took off at a dead sprint toward the Welcome Center.

“Poppy!” She heard a familiar voice yell. She skidded to a halt to see Gyu running to catch up to her.

“They’re going to kill him.” Gyu breathed hard. “I heard the rumors running through the crowd. They’re pissed that Tora killed Ambrose and Guevara, and they’re calling for blood.”

“They can’t! Vincent would never allow that.” Poppy argued.

“Yeah, well, not everyone plays by the rules, love.” Ramsey sighed. “If it were anyone but Tora, they’d be dead and the rest of the group knows it.”

“He’s an easy target now. And Vincent isn’t around the stop it.” Gyu explained. “He won’t show up to see Tora get beaten. This has only happened one other time, and Vincent locked himself in his office and left it to his lieutenants to take care of.”

“Yeah, bruv, but the only issue is the lieutenants are all pissed that Poppy killed Lang and Tora finished off the rest of his crew.” Ramsey shrugged.

“We have to stop it!” Poppy pushed.

“And just how do you propose we do that?” Ramsey laughed at her. “What? We gonna fucking fight our way to the front?”

Ramsey burst into laughter, but Poppy stared at him, letting him know that’s exactly what he would be doing.

“Nah, you’ve gone mad.” Ramsey hissed.  
“Look at this fuckin crowd! You really think I can kick everyone’s ass here? It’ll be like a fuckin mosh pit, but everyone’s against me.”

“Fine. You stay back here. I’ll go push my way through.” Poppy growled. Ramsey and Gyu exchanges a glance, and Ramsey leaned toward Gyu and murmured,

“She’s lost her fucking marbles.”

Poppy whirled around at that and sneered,

“Call me crazy one more time!”

“Ooohhhh this is reminiscent of the first time I met you. The feisty chihuahua has returned.” Ramsey laughed, only to stop laughing instantly when Poppy flung open the door to a massive crowd gathered at the entrance to the warehouse, people pushing and shoving to see what was going on. The sound of grunting could be heard over the din of the crowd, metallic pangs echoing throughout the warehouse.

Poppy backed up as far as she could, and took off in a sprint toward the crowd, shoving hard, trying to use her small stature to squeeze her way through the crowd. Up ahead, she could see one man, who looked to be the leader of the punishing squad. He was taller than the rest, and he carried around a metal pipe. He wore dark jeans and a tank top, revealing a myriad of arm tattoos.

Poppy pushed forward, making steady progress toward the front. A few people glared at her, shoving back, but upon seeing who she was, let her through. In a small window between people, she watched in horror to see what happened next:

One of the men, the shorter of the three, struck Tora from behind. He moved out of the way to allow a blonde man to move forward and strike Tora across the face with a metal pipe, taking the same pipe and striking him in his knees and forcing him to the ground. 

Tora swayed back and forth for a moment, trying to keep his composure, but Poppy could tell he was really in a lot of pain. Poppy was losing her patience. Ahead of her, she saw a pistol hanging out of the back of one of the thug’s pants. She pushed forward, grabbing the pistol and whipping crowd members as she went along, yelling,

“Get the fuck out of my way! Move!”

Poppy’s heart was beating a million miles an hour as she squeezed through the constriction of hot bodies crammed together. Elbows flew in all directions. Hands reached out, pushing and grabbing. The stench of sweat intermixed with musky colognes, alcohol, and cigarettes mingled with each other to create a sickening perfume that burned Poppy’s nose and eyes, as she shoved hard, stepping forward to get a clearer view of what was happening. She was almost to the front of the crowd, and she could clearly hear what the three attackers were telling him now.

“You should’ve known better than to fuck with Lang.” The taller man told him. “He had a lot of respect in our crew.”

“How could ya respect a rapist?” Tora grumbled, blood seeping from his mouth.

“What he did on his personal time was on him. And your bitch was the one that killed him. She’s next.” The blonde growled.

“Go ahead and try. Let’s see how far ya get. I fucking dare ya.” Tora but back, lunging toward the attacker. The blonde aimed a hard kick at his face that sent Tora sprawling with a spray of blood to the ground.

“Not so fucking tough now, are you?” The blonde laughed. Tora pushed himself back up, the look on his face absolutely terrifying as he glared at the men.

“Put those fucking pipes down and let’s see how far ya get against me. I’ll fucking tear you apart.” Tora growled, receiving a pipe to the face that split his cheek open.

“And then you decided to up and murder Ambrose and Guevara. And it wasn’t fast. You made it slow. You made them suffer.” The shorter of the few growled, aiming another kick to Tora’s ribs.

“Want to know what I did?” Tora laughed a low, frightening laugh, his mouth a bloody mess. “I pulled their fingernails off one at a time just to hear them fucking scream. When they begged me to stop, I sliced their fucking fingers off one by one and fed them to them like the dogs they were. And when they ate their little piggies, I cut their hands off and shoved them up their ass.”

“FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!” The leader roared, swinging the pipe hard and knocking Tora to the ground, blood pooling around his head. Tora looked up, catching Poppy’s eyes. He pushed himself up off of the ground again, determined not to go down at the hands of these assholes. Poppy felt the tears stinging her eyes as she looked at him, putting her hand over her mouth in shock. 

“Always the favorite.” The shorter one spat. “Always able to get away with more than any of us ever could. Let’s face it—if any one of us did what you did to Guevara and Ambrose, Vincent would have chopped us all to pieces and fed us to the dogs. But not you. No, not you. Always the golden boy. Always at Vincent’s fucking right hand like the little lap bitch you always have been.

“Even today, Vincent told us to set an example to make sure everyone knew what you did, but again, you get away with murder. Again, you still get to go back to your little bitch, and what do Lang, Guevara, and Ambrose get?”

“They got what they fucking deserved.” Tora spat, blood spattering from his mouth. “A bath in a vat of acid where there’s nothing left of their bodies but ash for the dogs to piss on.”

“This is going to be an accident. We got a little too carried away. A little too mad. A little too worked up. It happens all the time.” The blonde smirked. Tora sneered up at the blonde.

“Go ahead. Try to put me down.” Tora growled.

“This is the last fucking time you’ll ever murder one of us.” The leader said, his voice a chilling calm as he produced a gun from the back of his pants, placing it firmly against the back of Tora’s head as the other two men threw him to the ground and held him down. Tora struggled hard, lifting the two men off of the ground as four more men from the crowd leapt into action, holding Tora down.

“Do you really think I’d let them even get a hit in?” His voice echoed in her mind. 

“I’m not made of glass.”

Made of glass.

Made of glass.

Of glass.

No, he wasn’t, but he was just one man against an entire warehouse of angry spectators. By this point, the calamity was all an echo on the warehouse walls as time seemed to slow down, the events unfolding in a painfully stagnant succession:

The shouts from the crowd became muffled; 

Gyu was trying to push past the crowd, fighting hard to get to Tora, but being effectively restrained; 

Ramsey was beating the shit out of anyone and everyone he could to get to Tora, but it was clear he wasn’t going to make it in time as the crowd pushed back like a tidal wave against the onslaught of punches and kicks.

And Tora turned to look at Poppy, his eyes fixed on her with a gentle acceptance. If he was going to die, he was glad that he had the chance to see her one last time. In fact, if he had the chance to make one wish before he died, it would have been to see her and touch her one last time.

They say your life flashes before your eyes in the moments before your death. For Tora, this was true—mainly because his whole life was Poppylan. It flashed back to a disheveled girl crawling out of the bushes and kicking her overturned scooter, the first time he saw her; 

to the moment that he saw her again when he was at a celebration, speaking to Mr. Lam with those cute fucking pigtails; 

to the moment she touched his face for the first time, moving his hair out of his face and he looked up meeting her eyes. Looking back on it now, he was sure he probably fell in love with her then. 

To the moment when he drove her home and they had dinner—that little tiger rice ball she made him and how crazy she went when he took a picture of it;

To holding her hand on the balcony, pulling her closer to him, wanting to kiss her, realizing that he loved her then.

To the first time she kissed him on the rooftop in exchange for delivering that fucking painting for her. If he knew that he would’ve gotten a kiss for doing that then, he would’ve volunteered to serve her anytime any place.

To their time together overlooking Narin City on their midnight picnic and the way she looked in her little white top and yellow pants;

To the first time he touched her; the first time he was fully one with her, and the way her body felt against his and reacted to his touch. If he had the choice, he would’ve spent the rest of his life touching her, wanting her, knowing her better, and thank god she found him when she did. 

There were so many memories flooding back to him—flashes of her face, the way her lips felt on his, how her body felt against his when he held her, what it felt like to sleep next to her, to listen to her breathing and thank god she was alive, to run his fingers along her face and tell her he loved her. He wished he would’ve said it more often, but he figured that she knew.

He heard the sound of her voice; the way his heart melted when she laughed and how it broke when she cried; but what’s more: the sound of her voice telling him she loved him, and that brought him to this moment, lying on the ground, gun against his head, staring at this beautiful woman and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that even if he knew he would end up here if he had the chance to do it over, he would still reach for her in a heartbeat.

The gun cocked, a roaring click that echoed throughout the warehouse.

I love you.

I love you, Poppylan.

Tora tried to sit up, to tell her anyway, but it was too late. Poppy felt herself screaming, a ragged gut wrenching scream that tore her soul out of her body, tears of rage and sadness stinging her eyes and falling down her cheeks.

And in the slow brutal agony of that scream, the trigger was pulled.

Three shots rang out and the warehouse fell into a deafening silence.


	23. He is Gone (Remember Me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not crying. You’re crying.

“Poppy.” The voice was an echo across the chasm of time. “Poppy!”

Poppy jumped, knocking her knees against the desk. She looked around the room, realizing she had spaced out again.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Ito’s face was etched with concern as she sat in the desk in front of Poppy.

“Where is everyone?” Poppy asked quietly, looking around the classroom, finding herself alone.

“They’ve all been dismissed. School has been out for about five minutes now.” Mrs. Ito told her. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” Poppy lied, smiling brightly, grabbing her backpack up off of the chair and slinging it over her shoulder. 

“Do you still want the poem of the day?” Mrs. Ito asked, smiling at Poppy. Poppy nodded enthusiastically. Mrs. Ito and Poppy had a special bond as a student and teacher. She understood and appreciated Poppy’s passion for writing and art and had taken to giving Poppy a poem to take home each day and then bring back the following morning and discuss before school. 

“Alright then. Here it is. It’s called He is Gone (Remember Me) by David Harkins. Let me know what you think of it tomorrow morning.” Mrs. Ito smiled, handing Poppy the folded up piece of paper. Poppy bowed in thanks, taking the paper and rushing out the door. 

She sat underneath the big cherry blossom tree that was in full bloom in front of their school, the sky painted a sunset of pinks, golds, and oranges, and she unfolded the poem and read it:

You can shed tears that he is gone,  
Or you can smile because he lived,  
You can close your eyes and pray that he will come back,  
Or you can open your eyes and see all that he has left.

—-

A rip in the seam of time jolted Poppy forward and she sat clutching the funeral program in her hand, staring at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a stringy mess, her face a ghost of a woman with pale skin and dark circles under her eyes, the black chiffon of the dress on her skin making her look even paler and she felt angry—angry because the it was such a beautiful day outside.

“Aren’t funerals supposed happen when it’s raining and cold outside? Or when it’s snowing and everything is dead?” She thought to herself, standing up. At the table, a strand of pearls and pearl earrings sat waiting to be fastened on. Poppy sighed, her fingers running over them.

—-  
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him  
Or you can be full of the love that you shared,  
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,  
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.  
—-

Another leap forward in time and Poppy sat in the church pew, staring at the closed coffin in front of her. She still clutched the program in her hand. Rays of sunlight beamed through the open windows casting a warm golden glow on the church floor, specks of dust dancing in the light.

People stared at her, thinking her strange because she wasn’t crying. She could hear their thoughts in her mind as she sat there, unmoved, numb,

“She must not have loved him much. Look at her, not even shedding a tear.”

“She’s so stoic and cold. Not even one emotion to be seen.”

“Why doesn’t she cry? Is she crazy?”

But Poppy felt tired of showing those emotions. She felt tired of the anger and the regret and the pain and sadness. She felt tired of begging and pleading for a different outcome only to get the same one over and over again. She felt tired of putting on a show for other people’s benefit, and she wasn’t going to break down and cry in front of them just because that’s what they expected her to do.

—-

You can remember him and only that he is gone  
Or you can cherish his memory and let it live on,  
You can cry and close your mind be empty and turn your back,  
Or you can do what he would want: smile, open your eyes,  
love and go on.

——

Poppy stood in front of the coffin, the funeral ceremony effectively over, and she, the only one left in the church. The priest had left to give her a moment to be alone, knowing she probably needed it.

Poppy reached up, touching the lid of the coffin, running her hands over the smooth, glossy surface. She lay her body down on top of the coffin and the tears came in waves crashing over her again and again. Just when she thought she was coming back up for air, they would crash into her again, relentlessly pulling her under in the riptide of grief.

The tears fell over the gentle curves of the coffin, her wails filling the church as she finally let herself go and allowed herself to succumb to the sadness that had been eating her up inside, as she sobbed,

“Oh, Daddy.”

***

Poppy hadn’t thought about that poem in a long time. Hearing the words echoing through the space in her mind clutched at her heart relentlessly as she stood amongst the crowd of thugs. The room sat in a dark silence for a moment, struggling to come to terms with what had just happened.

When Poppy thought about her life with Tora, she always imagined that no matter what scrape he got into or what sort of trouble he managed to find himself in, he would always come out alive and well. She hadn’t been prepare to lose him and the shock of facing his death head on had shaken her to the core.

A flash of touching that smooth, black coffin entered her mind again like a crack of lightning. She had never imagined her life without him there or even prepared herself for him not to be there. He was always there in the back of her mind, that protective shadow that always fell over her; that warmth like a blanket wrapping around her telling her she was never alone, and now, she was jarred into figuring out what to do and how she would move on from losing him.

The gun shook furiously in Poppy’s hand as all three men fell to the ground dead, each in a jarring quick succession. 

Tora looked up in shock, as the gun fell out of Poppy’s hand and onto the ground, and she took off in a dead sprint in his direction. Tora got up off of his knees as she threw herself into his arms, sobbing. He picked her up in his arms, his forehead against hers, and Poppy wrapped her legs around his waist, touching his face, tears falling like rivers on Poppy’s face, and he kissed her furiously, wiping the tears from her cheeks, appreciating the feeling of her body in his arms again. 

Out of the crowd, a cry of dismay rose up, and a man charged forward, aiming the weapon at Tora and Poppy, shouting,

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!”

Tora responded quickly, shifting Poppy off to the side, scooping a pistol up off of the ground and shooting the assailant. He set her down on the ground, and Poppy grabbed the gun that the leader was carrying and cocked it. The crowd rumbled uncertainly, realizing what had just been done; and what they had just witnessed; defying a direct order from Vincent Balthuman.

No one was quite sure how to react to this anarchy or if they even wanted to be a apart of it. The moment that loyalties truly were tested was the moment the split in the crowd became apparent, several members closing the gap between Poppy and Tora, acting as a sort of shield, while the others stood back, choosing to remain loyal to Balthuman whether consciously, out of fear, or choosing to just not make the choice. Whatever the instance was, it was clear that a mutiny was on hand.

“Oh shit.” Poppy breathed, and Tora pushed her behind him, intending to use his body as a shield.

Out of nowhere, a staccato of shots from a light machine gun rang out, red lasers appearing in quick succession around the mob of people that closed in on Tora and Poppy as a blood bath began.

Tora wheeled quickly on Poppy, taking her to the ground and using his body to shield her from the onslaught of bullets raining down from the second story, where men in black riot gear shot without bias into the crowd. Poppy felt like she was in a nightmare as she covered her face with her hands, her body trembling in terror as Tora shot into the crowd, picking off anyone who got too close to them that the bullets from the balcony missed.

Meanwhile, those that were not part of the circle that was closing in on Tora and Poppy stampeded toward the doors, only to find them closed and locked. The men beat on the doors, pushing and shoving, trampling each other on a panic to get out of the warehouse.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” A voice roared from the second story. Immediately, the shooting stopped and the crowd quieted down, looking in terror up at the balcony as Vincent Balthuman strode forward, an AK-47 across the front of his body.

“YOU REALLY THOUGHT I WOULD ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN?” He bellowed out into the crowd. “YOU WANT TO TRY TO DEFY ME—VINCENT FUCKING BALTHUMAN?”

His voice echoed off the walls as the men in the room cowered in the corners.

“I’ll be damned if I allow a mutiny on my hands. Believe me when I say I am coming for every single fucking person who went against my orders.” Vincent snarled, his smooth blonde hair unkempt, falling into his face, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. He gripped the railing with his left hand, holding the gun out with his right hand.

“Run, little piggies, because when I fucking find you, and I will, I will personally rip you to shreds and devour the pieces.” Vincent screamed. Poppy was terrified, shaking uncontrollably under Tora, who remained calm and collected as the doors opened and everyone who was still standing made a mad rush toward the exits.

Tora pushed himself off of Poppy, a bloody mess of a person running on sheer adrenaline as he pulled her close to him, repeating,

“It’s okay, Poppy. It’s over. Calm down.”

The doors closest to Tora and Poppy slammed open with a deafening BANG! And Vincent stalked toward the two of them, flanked on either side by four armed guards. Poppy scrambled up to her feet, despite Tora trying to catch her, running toward Vincent as the guards raised their weapons screaming,

“GET BACK! GET THE FUCK BACK!”

“Mr. Balthuman!” Poppy cried out. “I did it! I killed the three of them. It was my fault. Tora didn’t do it. I shot them!”

Vincent looked at Poppy with flagrant disgust, before he took her by the hair, seething,

“You have been nothing but a problem since you entered into our organization, little girl. Don’t fucking test me.”

And he threw her off to the side, an armed guard shoving her out of the way as she stumbled, falling onto the ground violently.

Tora stood, putting his hands in his pockets, ready to accept his punishment from Vincent, who stood toe to toe with Tora, looking absolutely livid. He grabbed Tora’s face, turning it from side to side to examine the damage done to him, grabbing his arm and looking at his hands, inspecting his upper torso to assess how much was done to him.

“Let this be a lesson.” Vincent sighed, quietly. “It’s clear that I need to get a tighter grip on my organization.”

He reached into his pocket, producing a kerchief and wiping the blood off of his hands. From the shadows, Ramsey and Gyu emerged, Gyu standing near the back doors, Ramsey leaning on a pillar listening to the conversation, as Vincent glanced over in his direction. 

“Ramsey.” Vincent called.

“Sir.” Ramsey answered.

“You will find out who’s been fucking up my organization and why. Tora will assist you when he’s not with Poppy, and Poppy will also be responsible for gathering intel when she’s not doing business.” Vincent explained.

“With pleasure, guv.” Ramsey grinned, crossing his arms.

Vincent nodded, turning his attention to Tora, saying,

“Clean yourself up.”

Tora nodded, and Vincent’s darkened gaze turned toward Poppy.

“And as for you.” He purred. “This is the one and only time I will tolerate the murder of members of my organization without my consent. Murder and assault of any sort must go through me first, whether you think I’ll let it go or not. 

“This is also the last time I had better hear your name come out of anyone’s mouth when I ask about trouble in my organization. I do not tolerate troublemakers in my organization, and I certainly don’t tolerate private conversations between you and I leaving my office without my consent. You WILL clean up your act, or I will do it for you.”

Poppy nodded erratically, saying,

“Yes, sir.”

Vincent turned to his guard, growled,

“Get this cleaned up. Now.”

And at that, he stalked out of the warehouse, the door slamming behind him as a group of men moved into the room, beginning the process of cleaning up the sea of bodies and blood that lay strewn around the room.

Ramsey and Gyu strode quickly into the middle of the room, forming a support system on both sides of Tora while Poppy followed closely behind, helping Tora into the SUV. 

Poppy slid into the back of the SUV, and Tora grumbled,

“Well, that was a helluva a party. Next time, though, let’s do it without metal pipes.”

Ramsey burst into laughter at that, punching Tora in the arm, who winced in pain, shooting a go to hell look at Ramsey, who laughed even harder.

Gyu and Poppy exchanged a confused glance, and then both turned and stared out the window. Ramsey turned up the radio and started belting out “Sweet Caroline” much to Tora’s disgust as he scrunched up his nose, a sneer on his mouth as he mumbled,

“Jesus Christ.”

“Touching me, touching youuu!” Ramsey shouted, running his hand across Tora’s face, while Tora slapped his hand with a monotonous,

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Sweet Caroline, bum bum bum, good times never seemed so good! SO GOOD! SO GOOD! SO GOOD!” Ramsey shouted, jerking the wheel back and forth with each proclamation of “so good.”

“Are you fuckin high?” Tora grumbled, clutching the “oh shit” handle and looking at him incredulously.

Poppy smiled softly, her mind beginning to wander as she finally allowed all of the events of the day to sink in. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. 

Four. 

She had now killed four people. Murdered each of them without even thinking twice before she did it. Only after they were dead did she find herself wondering if there was another way the situation could have gone down.

“I’d do it again.” She heard a voice whisper. “I’d kill the three of them again if it meant making sure that he lived.”

She opened her eyes, taking in the scenery outside of the window. She could feel his eyes on her, looking at her in the rear view mirror as they drove, but she didn’t feel like locking eyes with him. Not yet because she was pretty sure she would fall to pieces right there in the SUV if she did.

“Listen, love. I’m going to take Tora to a guy I know. Gyu is going to take you back to the hotel.” She cast a sharp glance over at Ramsey, and he could feel the heat of the stare because he considered,

“It’ll be better if you aren’t there. This guy—he doesn’t exactly have all the nice anesthesia that all the proper doctors have.”

Poppy nodded understanding what Ramsey meant. They pulled up in front of a two story brick building that Poppy thought was abandoned for a moment until she saw the door open and a bald guy with a full body of tattoos step out, pants slung low around his waist, shirtless. The gauges in his ears where large enough that one could probably fit a Coke can through them. He crossed his arms, waiting for his patient to arrive.

“Alright, out you come, sweetheart.” Ramsey teased, opening the door for Tora.

“Oh, fuck off.” Tora grumbled.

“Ohhh someone has her knickers in a twist.” Ramsey went on.

“I’ll twist something alright.” Tora fumed.

“Oh you dirty, dirty girl.” Ramsey sighed, pinching Tora on the butt as the door closed and Poppy watched the two of them going at each other all the way to the doctor’s door before seeing it shut behind them.

Gyu moved to the driver’s seat, and Poppy moved to sit into the passenger seat when Gyu said,

“I wouldn’t sit here if I were you. It’s—a bit of a mess.”

Poppy nodded, and said,

“Well then, Mr. Gyu. Take me back to my hotel.”

“Right away, miss.” Gyu played along, feigning a British accent.

***

Poppy sat outside on the balcony of the hotel, gazing up into the night sky. For once, she felt completely at peace with everything in her life that had happened up to this point. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the balcony seat.

She heard the door to the balcony open, and she stood quickly, turning her attention to the tall, dark figure who was joining her out on the balcony. For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stood, staring at each other, allowing the line of emotions to pass between the two of them until a vicious snap of the line shuddered into place, and Tora took two huge strides toward her, yanked her forward by the small of her back, and his lips crashed down onto hers. He picked her up, setting her on the balcony railing and she wrapped her legs gently around his torso, leaning into his kiss.

“I didn’t think I was gonna get to do that again.” Tora told her, speaking against her lips as she leaned in to kiss him more, touching his face, feeling like she couldn’t be close enough. She clutched him, almost afraid to let go, like the minute she did, he would disappear like a dandelion in the wind. That sense of being completely out of control overwhelmed her, making her feel insignificant, an ant of a person in the grand scheme of things.

She wanted to be near him; to feel him; to know he was still there, alive, and breathing, and that was enough for her.

“I can’t do that again.” Poppy sighed. She sat up, looking him in his eyes, her candid conversation surprising him because he wasn’t quite used to her opening up to him like that.

“You are everything to me.” She told him. “And that scares me. Because all I can think is how could I keep going if I had to live without you? You take up all the space that I have in my heart. It’s like someone holding my head under water and telling me to breathe.”

She ran her fingers over his chest, touching the long dark hair that hung over his shoulders.

“You are the reason I keep going when I feel like all of this too much to handle; you’re the reason I pick myself up off the floor when I’m beaten down and bruised; you’re the reason I feel like everything is going to be okay; my beacon of light when the darkness is closing in, and I love you.

“So please,” Poppy’s voice was hardly a whisper, “please don’t put yourself in a position to do this to me again. Think it through. Wait it out. Whatever it takes because all of this isn’t worth it without you.” 

Tora nodded, feeling a strange sensation in his body as he held her, thinking back to the moments before the gunshots went off, how he should’ve told her one more time.

“Poppy.” Her name fell off of his lips before he could stop himself, and Poppy leaned back, looking into his eyes. “I love you.”

***

The two of them lay in silence as the fire between them faded to glowing embers. Tora reached out, taking Poppy’s hand in his. He lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing it gently, and playing with her fingers absentmindedly. She looked up at him, feeling he was far away from her, deep in his own thoughts.

“Tora?” She called, sitting up on her elbow to glance down at him. “Are you okay?”

He looked over at her, still deep in thought, and he nodded in response. He reached up and kissed her again, trying to memorize the softness if her lips, the feeling of her skin beneath his fingers. As he kissed her, Poppy felt something cool being pressed into her palm. She broke the kiss, looking down at what he had put into her hands: a silver ring, the one he always wore was sitting in her hand, the dull blue glow of the moonlight illuminating the ring in her hand. Her head popped to look at him, and he looked back at her.

“That’s yours now.” He told her. “Take care of it for me.”

She nodded, clutching it in her hand, and rolled over, straddling his body and kissing him because for tonight, just being near him wasn’t going to be enough for her.


	24. The Agreement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So THAT’S what jealousy looks like :D
> 
> Everyone grab your pitchforks! GET HERRRRR!!!!

24  
Akuma sat across the street from Vice on the patio of a tiny cafe. He picked up the little blue teacup in front of him and took a sip, the cool wind of the morning after a storm blowing through his long, dark locks. He had been here everyday since Poppy first emerged from the SUV, watching her every move, and silently leaving when she did.

He didn’t draw too much attention to himself, but he certainly wasn’t trying to hide himself either. There was a reason they called him the Night Watcher—if he wanted to be invisible, he’d simply be a shadow on the sidewalk, a whisper in the wind, or the bogeyman hiding in your closet. He was anything he was paid to be.

Across the table from him, a tall dark figure sat down, and Akuma apathetically glanced over at him, before turning his attention back to Vice.

“Care to tell me why ya been stalking Poppylan in broad daylight for the last week?” Tora’s voice was calm, but Akuma knew it held the fury of a tempest waiting to unleash itself on him. Akuma picked up his tea again, sipping it, and setting it gently in the saucer.

“Business.” Akuma grumbled. Tora felt perturbed that he didn’t bother to turn his attention to him.

“You gonna be a problem?” Tora asked, eyeing him carefully for any tell-tale signs of problematic behavior. Akuma smirked darkly, turning his attention to Tora, saying,

“Not a problem—a solution.”

Tora nodded, watching as the dark SUV pulled up and Poppy slid out of the back seat, carrying her little bag. Even when he was talking business and threatening people like Akuma, he couldn’t help but notice the way that her hips swayed back and forth in her tight little skirt.

“Whatever business ya have, it better fucking not involve Poppylan.” Tora told him, leaning forward and folding his hands on the table. Akuma seemed to find this humorous, and for the second time, he smirked at Tora, turning his body toward him and leaning forward.

“And if it does?” His voice was deathly calm, and it unnerved Tora to some degree. Akuma was clearly a man with some deep rooted psychological issues. His reputation was about what Tora’s was in terms of intimidation. 

“Then I will bring the entire Balthuman Organization down on you in the blink of eye.” Tora calmly explained as the waitress came by, dropping off a cup of tea in front of Tora, who brought it gently to his lips, sipping it.

“Interesting.” Akuma sighed, leaning forward to study Tora with his snakelike eyes. “What makes this Poppylan so special?”

Tora knew he was trying to fuck with his head, prying to see if she was worth pressing further into. He looked at Akuma passively, before saying simply,

“One of the most talented business executives we have.”

Akuma studied him further, not quite buying his explanation, but Tora wasn’t giving anything away whether it be in his expression or in his tone of voice. 

“I see.” Akuma eyed him one last time, turning back to look at Vice.

“Besides, Yamamoto and Balthuman struck a deal for her release a few weeks back. I don’t think Balthuman or Yamamoto would be very pleased if they found out you were violating the terms of the agreement.” Tora pried.

“On the contrary.” Akuma said. “The terms of agreement are exactly why I’m here.”

Tora seemed baffled by that statement, unsure of what Akuma was getting at. Akuma glanced over at Tora, and picked up his tea again, continuing,

“It seems like someone hasn’t told you the whole truth about your ever so lovely business executive and the terms of her release.”

“You’re playing mind games with me.” Tora sighed. “And I’m tired of the lies.”

“What reason would I have to lie to you? It’s not my business what trade negotiations are or why. Frankly I find them problematic and filled with way too much fine print to even consider.” Akuma told him, taking a final sip of his tea and patting his mouth with a napkin. “My job is simply to follow a clearcut set of instructions.”

“And what might those instructions be?” Tora inquired.

“Well, if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Akuma grinned, find this particularly hilarious. Tora smiled wryly.

“Well,” Akuma sighed, excusing himself. “As much as I enjoy your company, I’m afraid it’s time for me to leave. I’ll be back here tomorrow around 3 o’clock...but you already knew that didn’t you?”

He stood up, grabbing a pair of black sunglasses off of the table, leaving a hefty tip, and straightening his dark suit. He nodded to Tora and off he went.

****

Tora felt this sense of unease coming over him knowing that Akuma was effectively back in the picture and that he was stalking Poppy. What he found particularly unnerving was the fact that he wasn’t privy to any of the terms of Poppy’s release and who was involved in bringing Akuma back into the picture in the first place.

He walked behind Poppy, his gaze staring to every shadow on the wall, every movement in the window, every unexpected groan and creak that the old building made.

“Tora?” Poppy put her hand on his back, her eyes fraught with concern. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He touched her face gently, not wanting to scare her, kissed her cheek and sighed,

“I’m fine, Poppy. Just—tired.”

Poppy didn’t press any further as Mr. Tanaka summoned her into the club portion of Vice, Poppy catching up with Tanaka and the interior designer they had hired to work with him to transform the club. Tora took note for the hundredth time of entrances, exits, and hiding places as he slowly made his way into the club, the sound of discussions getting progressively louder as he studied each of the rooms carefully.

“Yes, I can see adding a large aquarium on this wall. Butterfly koi fish are all the rage right now, and I have an exclusive breeder who has beautiful white ones that would look absolutely divine against the deep blue backdrop.” He heard a woman’s voice say. That voice. He had heard it before. He picked up the pace, entering the room and seeing her for the first time in a few weeks.

She still had the same long inky black hair, pulled back into a faux hawk of a sort, the same form fitting black leather jacket and tight leather mini skirt, accentuated by her thigh high stiletto boots, white shirt tucked into the mini skirt and a heavy gold and diamond chain on her neck. On her neck, he saw the distinct white koi fish tattoo, swimming toward the nape of her neck, the tail of the fish down closer to her chest.

She glanced over at him, almond eyes smoked out with black shadow and liner. Her nude, glossy lips curved into a devilish smile, obviously liking what she saw, and Tora’s expression darkened. 

Poppy didn’t seem to notice the exchange between the two of them as she followed Tanaka, speaking to him excitedly about the bar and the other woman hung back, waiting for Tora to catch up.

“Well, if it isn’t the tiger of Ares Street himself.” Her voice was breathy, seductive as she sauntered over toward Tora, his mouth curving into an uncomfortable sneer.

“Mizuki—the fuck are you doing here?” Tora crossed his arms. She put her hand out, running her hands on his shoulders, and his face and he reached up, snatching her hand and throwing it to the side.

“Is that any way to treat your new business partner?” She smiled.

“Like hell you are.” Tora bit back.

“Aw, don’t believe me, sweetheart?” Mizuki smiled, flipping through her phone and showing Tora the Balthuman contract for her to work as the interior designer alongside Poppy.

“It looks like you and I are going to be spending a long,” she sighed, stepping closer to him, “long, long time together.”

Tora stepped back, trying to keep his space from her, but found himself backed into a wall. Mizuki stalked forward, a predator cornering her prey.

“Aw come on, Tora.” She purred. “You never used to be afraid of me. In fact, I seem to remember you couldn’t get enough of me the last time I saw you.”

Tora looked away from her, disgusted with himself for ever even considering her fuckable.

“That’s right, this club has a little side room just like the one where you pressed me up against the wall,” she whispered.

“Stop it.” Tora was trying to maintain his calm, but he felt himself losing his temper.

“And you had your lips right here.” She whispered, unbuttoning her shirt, exposing her black, lacy bra. 

“Don’t do that. Button yourself back up.” He growled, looking away from her.

“And your hands were right here.” She breathed, hitching up her shirt, exposing her black g-string.

“Pull ya fucking skirt down.” Tora tried turning away from her, but she caught him by the face, pressing herself against him, her hands rubbing over his groin.

“Get—the fuck—“ Tora started to push her off of him. He froze at the sound of Tanaka clearing his throat, before hearing the worst sound he could possibly hear at that moment:

“Tora?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and he realized exactly what Mizuki had done—she was standing in front of him, skirt hiked up, shirt open, exposing herself, her hand on his dick, lips near his ear, while he was trying to push her away.

Mizuki stepped back, playing the coy, embarrassed little girl who had been caught playing show me yours and I’ll show you mine in the courtyard. She pulled her skirt down, buttoning her shirt up, and smiled, saying,

“I’m so sorry. I was just catching up with a very, very good friend of mine.”

Tanaka glanced over at Poppy, who was doing the best she could to keep it together, fighting so hard to maintain a businesslike appearance. Mercifully, Tanaka said,

“I think that’s enough for today. Ms. Wilkes, as always, it’s been an absolute pleasure to work with you. And miss?”

Mizuki reached inside of her designer handbag, producing a business card with a drawing of a dazzling white koi fish on it, handing the card to Tanaka as she smiled,

“Yamamoto. Mizuki Yamamoto.”

“Well, Miss Yamamoto. I’ll see the two of you tomorrow. And Miss Yamamoto? Do remember that I expect professionalism out of you at all times. I’m not above firing even a young lady to find someone more suited to the job if I must.” Tanaka warned her, and she bowed, saying,

“Of course, Mr. Tanaka. It won’t happen again. At least not on this premises.”

Tanaka nodded, turning his back and heading back toward the bar area. Mizuki rose her head, deliberately looking into Poppy’s eyes, her lips curving into a wicked smile.

“And your name was—Pippy?” She smiled, handing Poppy a card.

“Ah—Poppy, actually.” Poppy quietly told her.

“Well Bobby, it’s been an absolute pleasure to meet you, and I am so,” she sighed, her eyes flicking over to Tora as her voice deepened an octave, “so looking forward to working with you. See you tomorrow!”

And at that, she sashayed toward the door, making it a point to graze Tora’s hand as she exited, leaving Tora and Poppy standing alone in the room.

Poppy found herself unable to look at Tora after what she had seen, and in that moment of raw emotion, found her thoughts wandering back again to Mrs. Ito.

“Poppy.” Mrs. Ito’s voice reached across time to Poppy, and Poppy answered the call. She found herself in that bright classroom alone again, Mrs. Ito sitting in front of her.

“You haven’t been yourself lately.” Mrs. Ito frowned. Poppy felt drained, like all the life had been sucked out of her. She hadn’t slept since her father’s funeral and found herself staying awake to paint more often in the silent solitude of her room. Poppy’s mouth felt dry, and she said,

“Mrs. Ito—have you ever heard of an author called Sylvia Plath?”

Mrs. Ito smiled,

“She’s well known for a novel called ‘The Bell Jar.’ She’s a master of the written word. Why do you ask?”

Poppy glanced out the window, and sighed,

“Lately, I’ve been finding myself relating more and more to the things that she writes, and I’m not sure that I like that feeling.”

Mrs. Ito nodded, her brows furrowing in concern as she said,

“Writing is a deeply personal experience for many authors. Some of them find it cathartic to be able to release those emotions out on paper, while we as readers find purpose and empathy. We connect with writing that makes us feel like we are understood and our feelings are validated.”

“She wrote a poem, ‘Tulips,’ and it’s like it just resonates with me. Like she’s felt everything that I feel now.” Poppy explained.

“Which parts?” Mrs. Ito asked. Poppy pulled a book of poetry out of her bag, flipping to the page she had dog eared.

“I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.

...  
  
“They have propped my head between the pillow and the sheet-cuff  
Like an eye between two white lids that will not shut.  
Stupid pupil, it has to take everything in.

...

“My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water  
Tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing them gently.  
They bring me numbness in their bright needles, they bring me sleep.  
Now I have lost myself I am sick of baggage——  
  
I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted  
To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.  
How free it is, you have no idea how free——  
The peacefulness is so big it dazes

...  
  
Nobody watched me before, now I am watched.  
The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me  
Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins,  
And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow  
Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips,  
And I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself.  
The vivid tulips eat my oxygen.”

Mrs. Ito sat wordlessly, and the tears stained the pages of Poppy’s poetry book. She felt so ashamed for crying in front of her teacher that way.

“Tell me, Poppy. What about this poem speaks to you now?”

Her voice echoed off the walls of Poppy’s mind, a clanging in the metalwork and rusted gears of memories that were buried in Poppy’s soul. Poppy turned toward the window, and Tora stood, waiting for her to say something—anything.

“I guess it’s that feeling of loneliness that I feel when I think about her. How she just feels like nobody to everyone around—just this cut out paper doll, floating through life in this sterile and cold and harsh environment, totally at peace with being no one to anybody.” She had told Mrs. Ito.

“Is that how you feel?” Mrs. Ito asked. Poppy glanced down at the book, shutting it wordlessly, and Mrs. Ito understood.

“And why do you feel like you’re no one to anybody?” She gently pressed.

“Nobody knows what this never ending anger and—and pain—and loneliness feels like. Because everyone looks at me like the poor little girl who lost her daddy. Poor, sad, pitiful little girl, and they don’t even know my name.” Poppy pressed, her voice an angry palisade enveloping a raw grief that she still wasn’t quite familiar with yet. “Because nobody really sees me.” 

“Not even me?” Mrs. Ito asked. Poppy looked up at her, her lip trembling as she fought back another wave of emotions she had been trying to repress since her last moments alone with her father.

Not even me?

Not even me?

Not even me.

—  
“Stupid pupil. It has to take everything in.”  
—

“Poppy?” Tora’s voice was quiet. He had wanted to wait for her to say something, but he couldn’t stand the silence between the two of them. He stared at her, waiting, and she turned her attention over her shoulder toward him, still not quite ready to look at him yet, casting her eyes down on the floor.

—  
“Nobody watched me before, Now I am watched.”  
—

He put his hands into the pockets of his black suit, looking down at his feet. Finally, she turned to face him, eyes meeting his, and he tried to read her expression, but Poppy had slid a mask of indifference into place.

“I’m not going to ask you what I just saw.” Poppy swallowed hard. “I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist to see what was going on.”

“It isn’t what you think.” Tora tried to explain, but Poppy put her hand up.

“You don’t have to explain it to me.” She told him.

—

“I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself.”

—

“I know that I may not be a supermodel. I may not dress like one or walk like one or talk like one. I may not have a history with you like she seemed to beyond the history that we have now, but I will not be made to feel like I am inadequate or insignificant to you. 

“You will not treat me like the way I feel doesn’t matter just because you’re beautiful and confident—just because all you have to do is snap your fingers and a woman falls all over herself to be with you.

“You had no right to do this to me here and now, knowing full well I would catch you.

“I am not worthless. I am somebody to someone even if that someone isn’t you.”

Tora was completely floored by her response to him, and even though all of the anger and hatred and pain was misdirected at him, he couldn’t help but stand in awe of her again because she was beautiful and she was confident and she was worthy and she was...

“Wrong.” Tora firmly told her. “You’re not just somebody to me. You’re everything.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“I have never asked you to put your blind trust in me before. Hell, I rarely ask you for anything, but just this once, I’m asking you to trust me. I’m asking you to know that what you saw was not what was really there. 

“You should know me by now, Poppy. You know I would lay down my life for you. Why would I be willing to throw all of that away over Mizuki Yamamoto?” He asked her, stepping toward her.

“Yamamoto.” Poppy murmured.

“That’s right.” Tora pressed. “Yamamoto.”

Poppy’s mind flashed back to Miracle, passing by a girl at the bar who was throwing herself at the bartender.

“What—the fuck—is she doing here?” Poppy asked through gritted teeth.

“That is a question for Vincent. She showed me the contract. He hired her.” Tora explained, and all at once, the pieces started to fall into place.  
  
“You had no right to do this to me here and now, knowing full well I would catch you.” She had told him, and she was right, but it wasn’t Tora who was looking to be caught. It was Mizuki.

“Apparently, the settlement that Vincent and Yamamoto reached has something to do with a work agreement, but I’m not sure what it is.” Tora told her.

“We will find out soon enough.” Poppy said. “Until we do, I’m keeping a close eye on that bitch.”

Tora’s eyebrows flew up and Poppy looked over at him questioningly.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how fucking hot you sound when you get defensive over things—especially if one of those things happens to be me.” He smiled, arching an eyebrow, and approaching Poppy, pulling her close to him, his mouth a few inches from her.

“Who says I’m defensive over you?” Poppy muttered.

“So, then it’s okay if I let her come on to me like that again?” Tora grinned.

“Like hell it is.” Poppy fumed.

“Not defensive over me, huh?” He teased, and she rolled her eyes, closing the gap, pressing her lips to his.

“I kinda thought when you said you loved me that you were mine.” Poppy purred.

“Oh? She’s possessive now too, is she?” Tora kissed Poppy, nipping at her ear. 

“Take me back to our room,” Poppy ran her hands over Tora’s stomach, tracing the waistband of his pants. “And I’ll show you what possessive looks like.”


	25. The Terms of Agreement

25

Poppy entered Vice on edge, knowing she was going to have to deal with Mizuki again today. It could’ve been anyone—anyone in the world. Why her? Why did it have to be that asshole’s daughter?

Mizuki sauntered into the building, a white shift dress hugging her body, heavy designer jewelry around her neck and on her ears. Poppy felt Tora glance over at her to see her reaction, and Poppy watched Mizuki finally take her attention off of her phone, tuck it into her tiny purse, and immediately zone in on Tora, brushing past Poppy to head to Tora, who put his hands in his pockets to avoid touching her.

“Tora,” she purred. “I’m so glad to see you again today—and looking as handsome as ever.”

She ran her fingers over the front of his body, and Tora shot her a glare that would have withered any flower on sight. She, however, took it as consent to continue touching him.

“Mizuki,” Poppy called, and Mizuki stopped for a moment, her hand still on Tora’s shoulder, turning to face Poppy, “when you’re working with me, I expect what Mr. Tanaka expects—respect and professionalism. As such, I will not tolerate you treating my security detail like they’re your playthings. They’re not—they have a very specific and important job to do, and when you distract them, it makes it very difficult for them to do their job efficiently and effectively. Please keep your hands to yourself.”

Poppy added an inward “Yamamoto bitch.” 

Mizuki paused for a moment, and Poppy took special pleasure in watching her slowly take her hand off of Tora, a small sneer playing on her lips. Tanaka gave Poppy an approving nod, and off he went to the meeting room. 

Tora felt himself go hard listening to the personal undertones in her voice as Poppy chastised Mizuki for putting her hands on him. He wanted to take her right here and now on the bar table looking Mizuki directly in the eyes thrust per thrust to tell her to back the fuck off, and what’s more, he wanted to see Poppy on top of him, possessing him the way she did last night, showing her exactly whose he was because he damn sure didn’t want Mizuki.

That thought as a whole caused a slight delicious shiver to run through his body thinking of the words “possession.” He belonged to someone, and not just because he had signed his life away and bore a brand on his neck to show that ownership, but because he loved her, and she loved him. Sometimes, he wished that he could get a tattoo showing that she belonged to him. Hell, he would take a true brand if it meant showing everyone that he was hers, and he wanted her to have that same brand on her, showing that she belonged to him.

He watched Poppy reach up, fingering that silver necklace on a silver chain, and he had to suppress a smile looking at it. Maybe he already had given her that something to show she was his, but he sure wished that she could wear it on her fing—

Whoaaa what the fuck? He found himself startled at the fact that he had thought about well...marriage. It wasn’t something he ever thought he would be capable of giving to someone. And he still wasn’t sure if he could, but being with her everyday—he thought maybe, in some alternate universe, it could be a possibility.

“Forgive me.” Mizuki said, and Poppy could sense the defensive edge in her tone, “I didn’t realize that toying with underlings was such a grave offense to you.”

Poppy’s hands stopped moving, and Tora saw them tense, as she strode forward toward Mizuki, face to face with her and said,

“It is when it comes to him.”

Ohhh my god was all Tora could think. Thank fuck for this version of Poppy. 

Mizuki smiled, seeming now to understand the personal nature between Poppy and Tora.

“My goodness,” Mizuki purred, “it’s almost as if we could have a conflict of interest on our hands here. Are you sure it’s not going to affect the way that you do your job, sweetie?”

“It will if you can’t keep your hands to yourself, in which case, I’ll let Mr. Balthuman know that you’re becoming a deliberate problem with this job and keeping us from ultimately closing this deal with Tanaka, and I’m sure you know how Vincent or any business owner, for that matter, feels about losing money.” Poppy seethed.

“You can tell your boss whatever you want to tell him, but we signed a contract. Contracts are a legally binding agreement.” Mizuki hissed right back.

“Oh honey,” Poppy tsked sympathetically, clapping her on the shoulder, “I can see you didn’t bother to read the fine print.”

And at that, she nodded to her with a sad smile, turned and left to join Tanaka. Mizuki stood furiously, half in disbelief that she had just been called on her shit by a tiny little nobody, and now half wondering what she had missed in the contract. Tora strode forward, hands still in his pockets, pausing next to Mizuki without looking at her, and saying,

“This isn’t the first time that not being able to keep your hands to yourself has caused you any issues. But it is the first time that someone has had the balls to say something to you.”

And at that, he casually strode toward where Poppy and Tanaka sat at a long round table, discussing their options. Mizuki shook, trying to get herself to calm down. She made her way over to the bar, yanking a bottle off of the counter, and poured two shots into her mouth, swallowing them. 

Mizuki’s father had warned her that trying to swoop in and take control of the negotiations in favor of Yamamoto wasn’t going to be an easy task because of who was involved, but when she saw sweet-little-virginal-girl-next-door Poppy, she nearly burst into laughter, thinking back to what her father had said.

Now, she had made it even more difficult on herself: she had effectively made Poppy suspicious of her motives, and Tora clearly had no interest in her, nor could she fuck him into helping her. It simply wasn’t happening and for once, she didn’t know what to do.

Poppy glanced over Tanaka’s shoulder to see Mizuki take the two shots and took special pleasure in realizing that she had gotten under her skin.

Good.

Mizuki finally gathered herself and came into the room, sitting down, for once, next to Tanaka, rather than Tora.

“Now that I have this under control for now,” Poppy thought. “There are a few other things I need to take control of as well.”

***  
Tora had been called away on clan business, and left Poppy with a gentle kiss on the cheek. This was her chance to figure out exactly what was going down between Yamamoto and Balthuman.

Before she knew it, Poppy stood outside of Vincent’s office, hesitating for a moment and then knocking on the door. She waited a moment and the door opened quietly, Vincent appearing, his face darkening when he saw it was her.

“Poppy,” Vincent’s voice was cold, “what a surprise. What brings you here?”

“The Tanaka project.” She told him. He paused a moment longer, then opened the door wider to let her in, motioning to a seat in front of his desk as he took his seat.

“Is there a problem?” Vincent inquired.

“No, sir. I’m here seeking clarity.” Poppy said. Vincent eyed her, folding his hands, his patience clearly wearing thin.

“What can I clarify?” He asked. Poppy clutched her skirt, summoning up her courage.

“I wanted to ask about the terms of my release from Yamamoto.” Her voice was calm, assertive despite how nervous she felt. Vincent looked down at his hands.

“I suppose it’s—fair to want to know your price.” Vincent’s voice was tight, controlled. Poppy leaned forward to listen, her attention focused on Balthuman.

“Yamamoto and Balthuman have—a long history of rivalry—some bloody, most focused in the business sector.” Balthuman explained. “Seeing that you were of particular interest to a Balthuman member, Yamamoto asked specifically to set aside differences and jointly take ownership of the Goruden neighborhood. 

“We laid out the area and agreed on the terms of ownership, but with the specific condition that any dealings in the Goruden neighborhood would be overseen by both organizations. So, we made the first move, beginning with Tanaka’s club. I informed him of our intentions, as we agreed, and he sent Mizuki and Akuma to oversee the sale of the club.” Balthuman explained.

“Excuse me, sir. But did you say Mizuki AND Akuma?” Poppy asked, her heart slamming against her chest in anxiety at hearing that name again.

“I certainly didn’t stutter.” Vincent said darkly. “Tora has been involved in dealings with Akuma. He usually checks in with him before your arrival to make sure Yamamoto is staying in check.”

Poppy leaned back, nodding. It’s no wonder he’s been so stressed out lately.

“We are evenly matched in all sectors. If one organization is involved in any sector, the other matches it to make sure one doesn’t overstep their mark.” Vincent explained.

“And what would overstepping the mark entail?” Poppy questioned. Vincent looked at her in relative interest.

“A blatant attempt to take what doesn’t belong to them in terms of business dealings.” Vincent told her. Poppy nodded, clutching her skirt once more, feeling a fleeting bit of anger brush through her.

“Thank you, sir. That’s all I wanted to ask.” Poppy told him, waiting for her him to excuse her.

“I’m well aware that Tora and Mizuki have—a bit of a history together. Mizuki is used to using some rather unsavory practices, and she tends to overstep her bounds frequently, but she is good at what she does.” Vincent explained. “That’s why I hired her.”

“Understood, sir.” Poppy nodded. Vincent nodded, his face softening a little, looking at her.

“You’re dismissed, Poppy. If you have any other questions, feel free to call me.” He told her. Poppy nodded, said,

“Thank you.”

And headed out the door.

***

Walking along the sidewalk back to the hotel, Poppy found herself thinking about Vincent had said only to have her train of thought interrupted as a red car came to a screeching halt next to her, and a tall, dark figure shot out of the car, coming at Poppy in a fury.

“I have been fucking looking for you everywhere, Poppylan.” Tora snarled. “I tried texting, calling. Where the fuck have you been?”

Poppy stopped to gape at him for a moment, fully intending to unleash the wrath of Poppy on him, but she held her tongue, understanding most of this was coming from a caring, albeit aggressive place.

“I went to meet with Vincent.” She told him simply, heading toward the passenger seat because she knew that walking home would be a losing battle at this point.

“Alone? Without telling anyone?” He pressed, opening the door for her to get into the car. Poppy rolled her eyes and slid into the passenger seat.

“I’m sorry.” Poppy sighed, annoyed.

“Yeah, well you damned well should be. You scared the shit out of me! I was afraid that—that—“ he hissed.

“That Akuma found me and decided to drag me back to Yamamoto?” She finished for him, agitated at the verbal meltdown she was receiving. Tora’s eyes widened in surprise as she threw that accusation out there.

“Why would you assume that?” He asked, and she realized she had effectively taken his anger down a few notches.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you meet with him everyday, and when I ask where you’ve been, you just tell me you’re scanning the perimeter.” Poppy told him.

“Well...it is true.” He pushed back, but his argument was weak, and he knew it.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was back?” Poppy asked.

“I didn’t want to scare ya. Plus, I’ve been watching him, meeting him. I didn’t feel like he was a threat quite yet.” Tora told her. Poppy reached over, putting her hand on his, and she saw him visibly relax.

“I’m sorry.” She said to him. “I should’ve told you where I was going. With everything that’s happened, I should’ve realized how much it would scare you to come back from a job and see that I was gone without any sort of notice.”

Tora nodded. He reached over, kissing her forehead and mumbled,

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“I just wanted to do this on my own. I feel like you’re always so responsible for me, always dropping things just to go with me, and I wanted to do this just for me.” Poppy explained. He nodded.

“Why did you go see Vincent in the first place?” Tora asked.

“I wanted to know what the terms of my release were. I thought it strange that he would pair me up with a Yamamoto like that. Turns out, the deal they struck was for joint ownership of the Goruden district with, well essentially, ‘supervision’ from the other organization.” Poppy explained. Tora considered this information, nodding.

“Something tells me Yamamoto is dealing under the table if Akuma is involved.” Tora told Poppy, his hand running through his hair. He turned on the car.

Poppy looked at him out of the corner of her eye, deep in thought as he drove, the knuckles of his left hand rubbing over his lips. Poppy bit her lip, squirming a little in her seat watching him touch his lips the way he was. He glanced over at her, a devious smile spreading over his lips, and he put his hand down on her upper thigh, slowly moving it to her inner thigh,

“Like something you see, sweetheart?”

Poppy leaned back in the seat, allowing his hands to explore their way into her panties, and she bit her lip, a pleasurable moan escaping her lips.

“You know Narin City well, right?” Poppy breathed as his fingers explored a little further.

“I’d say so.” He said, seemingly focused completely on driving, but the way his fingers were moving suggested otherwise.

“Think you know an isolated place we could go?” She asked, hands clutching her skirt as she trembled a little at the deliciously circular motions his fingers were making.

He looked over at her, withdrawing his hand, sitting forward and stepping on the gas. Poppy almost whined about the removal of his hand, and then she had an even better idea. She unbuckled her seatbelt, crawled over the center console, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, whipped him out, and wrapped her lips around him.

“O—oh shit! Poppy!” He breathed, his arms locking as he drove. “Ya keep doing that and I won’t be able to focus on driving.”

Poppy giggled and he almost lost his mind at the vibration of her throat, as she worked on him.

***

The car screeched to a halt, and Tora unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbed the seat handle, moved it all the way back and leaned it all the way back.

Poppy removed her panties and climbed on top of him, sinking down onto him with a loud,

“Yes.”

As she threw her head back. 

“Fuck, Poppy. Been waiting for that long?” He asked, flexing his hips, grabbing hers, and thrusting deeper into her.

“Long enough.” She sighed, rocking her hips on him and riding him fast, and hard.

“Better slow down.” He teased her, feeling her become wetter as she rode. She looked down at him, and he nearly came just from the look in her eyes, that heated, beautiful, dark lust. She was on fire, and he all but melted into the seat watching her come alive.

She reached up, pulling her hair down as it fell over her shoulders in a cascade of curls, adjusting her knees on either side of his body, using his shoulders as support, and she bounced her body on his with merciless pacing.

He threw his head back, closing his eyes, sighing,

“Fuck.”

Focusing on the way she felt, the sounds that she made, her breathing, mewling, and gentle moans. He heard her let out a load groan, knowing she was close to climaxing, and he pulled her body forward, whispering,

“Cum for me, Poppy.”

And almost on command, he felt her tighten, and she released a pent up growl of frustration and ecstasy that nearly drove him insane. He grabbed a hold of her hips, driving into her with a fury, as she leaned back, allowing him a tighter, better angle. 

“Oh—my god.” She found herself whispering, closing her eyes, her hands bracing herself on the roof of the car as he fucked her hard and fast, and Poppy knew he was close to an orgasm when he threw his head back, becoming more vocal, moaning, writhing against her before releasing with a loud,

“F—-fuck!”

Poppy circled her hips on his as he came to a stop. He lay back, breathing hard, clearly spent, and she pulled him by his tie, taking his lips against hers, tracing his lower lip with her tongue, and she felt him smile against her lips.

“You are insatiable, woman.” He sighed, kissing her again.

“Only when it comes to you.” She purred, reaching over his shoulder into the back seat, pulling out a gym towel.

“Who the fuck else would you be insatiable for?” Tora took the towel.

“Well, I’ve been seeing this one guy on the side, and he—“

Tora shot her a menacing look, stopping what he was doing for a moment, then resuming with a simple,

“Well ya won’t have a side piece for long now that I know about him.”

Poppy’s mouth fell open at that, and she laughed incredulously at him. She punched him playfully in the arm.

“Ah!” He feigned pain. “Now she’s trying to incapacitate me so I can’t kill him.”

“You big jerk!” She laughed, launching herself at him with a barrage of pokes and prods. He easily restrained her, laying her on her back, his smile fading as he looked down at her, releasing her.

“Tora? You okay?” Poppy asked, concerned by his sudden shift in attitude. She reached up, touching his face, and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes.

“Hey, Poppy. I got a question I want to ask you, and I want ya to be honest with me.” He told her, his voice suddenly shifting as he opened his eyes, looking down at her.

“Alright. I’ll be an open book.” She smiled.

“Would you—“ he started, cutting himself off and clearly having an issue getting back on track. 

“Would I?” Poppy pressed, feeling suddenly nervous about what he was trying to ask her.

“Have you—“ he tried rephrasing, hoping he would be able to get it out, but to not avail.

“Tora, you’re scaring me. What are you trying to ask me? Come out with it.” She was tensing up, worrying about his question. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then calmly asked,

“Would you ever consider spending the rest of your life with me?”


	26. A New Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading. I’m loving all the comments I get to read.
> 
> I appreciate all of your support as we get down to some unfinished business :)

26

“Would you ever consider spending the rest of your life with me?”

That question had come completely out of left field, and Poppy sat in shock, looking at him. She could tell it made him completely uncomfortable to ask by the way his whole body tensed up.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, considering her response, and Tora immediately regretted asking the question, but it was out there now. There was no taking it back, and if he was being honest, he did want to know the answer.

“Yes.” Poppy said simply. “I would.”

For most of them time that she had known Tora, he had lived for the thrill of the here and now. This question seemed so out of character for him.

“I just—I just wanted to know.” He stuttered.  
“Cause I gave ya that ring, and it just got me thinking about what if’s. And if you don’t want that, it’s okay. We don’t have to. You don’t have to. I mean, I want to, but if you don’t—“

“Tora.” Poppy put her hand on his mouth, stopping his prattling. “I want to.”

He felt like he could fly heading her say that because there were only a handful of people he could think of that even wanted to stay in his life, much less permanently. Permanence—it was such a scary word and forever was a long time. With all the narrow scrapes the two of them had been through, maybe just saying for the rest of their life would be enough because he knew as long as he was breathing, there wasn’t anyone else he wanted to be with.

Poppy got up off of his lap, sitting in the passenger seat, nervously playing with her hair. This was such a heavy topic between the two of them—so serious. So—adult. And then talking about giving her his ring. Well, that was more than just living together. He was talking about—about,

“Marriage.” Poppy found herself thinking aloud. Tora cleared his throat, his knee twitching in discomfort as he heard that word come out of her mouth. “Is that what you meant to ask me? If—If I ever would consider marrying you?”

His mouth went dry. Aw fuck. She had said it. She said the word. The—m—word. She had called him on it. He HAD been thinking of it. That was what he meant, but getting that out would’ve have been damned near impossible compared to just would you consider spending your life with me?

“I mean—yes? But. Poppy, I don’t have a ring to give ya. Look at me. Realistically, what can I give you? I can’t buy ya fancy necklaces or nice cars. I can barely keep a good set of clothes without getting blood all over them. I—I don’t know what I was thinking. Why would you ever want to spend forever with someone like me?” 

God. He was always so down on himself. He ran so hot and cold with this kind of stuff, and for someone who was supposed to be the tiger of Ares Street, he lacked a lot of confidence.

“Gosh, you’re right.” Poppy sighed, sitting back and crossing her arms. A look of hurt flashed across his face for a moment. “Why in the world would I ever want to spend my life with someone who put his own life on the line on multiple occasions to make sure I was safe? I mean, what the hell am I thinking wanting to be with this guy who always puts me first, who would drop anything and everything to be with me, who loves me irrevocably and unconditionally, who wants to give me the world and tries to give me the world every single day?”

She glanced over at him, taking his face in her hands, and then finishing,

“I must be out of my mind.”

He smiled softly at her, and she shrugged,

“Not to mention the sex is good.”

“You would say that.” He rolled his eyes, and at that, the conversation had effectively ended. “Let’s go back to the room.”

“Yes, onward to my side piece.” She said, pointing forward in a grand gesture.

“I swear to god, Poppy. If you really do have a side piece, I am going to—“

“Meet him and make him your very best friend in the whole wide world!”

“Tear his dick off with my bare hands.”

“With your bare hands? You want to touch his dick?”

“No, that’s not—did you just say dick? Nevermind. What the fuck, Poppy!”

“I’m just saying. I was talking about a side piece and now you’re talking about touching dick with bare hands, and it’s kinda making me wonder if maybe I should just invite him over for a threesome.”

“Oh, god damn it, Poppy! No!”

Poppy really did find annoying him strangely entertaining.

***

The relentless teasing continued up to their hotel room as Tora opened the door, and immediately grabbed Poppy, pushed her behind him, and drew his pistol.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He sneered. Sitting in the little seating area near the balcony was Akuma, who said,

“Business.”

“How did you get in here?” Tora snarled, keeping the pistol locked on Akuma.

“Which time?” He pressed. “This time? Or the time you went to Ice Bar and I was here with your sleeping woman. She does have very soft skin. I would know. I’ve run my fingers along her face while she dreamed of you. I thought about what it would feel like to drive a blade into that flesh and flay her alive—maybe a leave a piece for you as a memento.”

Akuma stood easily, running his hands along the comforter, then looked up at Tora.

“I want to talk with Poppy. Alone.” He told Tora.

“Like hell am I going to let her in there alone.” Tora growled.

“Suit yourself. I’m just here for business. Besides, if I wanted her dead, I have had plenty of opportunities to take her life: take her trip alone to see Balthuman today, or when you took a little detour for some—personal time today. Oh yes. She’d be dead if that’s what I really, really wanted. But I don’t.” Akuma mentioned.

“We are a package deal. She goes, I go.” Tora pushed. Akuma sighed.

“Fine with me. But she speaks for herself.” Akuma said, pulling another seat up to the table so the three of them could sit. Tora lowered his weapon, keeping Poppy behind him as they entered, pulling the seat furthest from Akuma out for her as he sat in the middle.

“I have a business proposition for you, and I have been sent to personally oversee it.” Akuma began.

“Who sent you?” Poppy inquired.

“The identity of my source will not be revealed; only the proposition.” Akuma coldly explained.

“Why send you? If this is a business proposition, why send the muscle?” Poppy felt wary of him for a lot of reasons.

“One could say I can be very persuasive.” Akuma smiled, and Poppy felt like she was staring right at the Devil.

“So you’re here to force my hand.” Poppy clarified. Tora shifted uncomfortably.

“In this case, I don’t think I’ll need to.” Akuma told her. Poppy eyed him, sitting back, and then saying,

“I’m listening.”

“My client would like to enlist your help in taking down Vincent Balthuman.” It rolled off of his tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world to say, but Poppy’s heart nearly burst out of her chest. She could tell Tora was having a hard time keeping his mouth closed.

“And why would I help you? That’s like signing a death wish. Vincent would find out and both me and Tora would be dead.” Poppy told him.

“That’s highly unlikely.” Akuma told her. “And as for the answer to your first question: because doing so would mean your permanent removal from organized crime. You would go back to living a normal life under normal circumstances.”

“How could I ever go back to living a normal life?” Poppy shot back. “You of all people should know that there is no getting out of organized crime. You kill Vincent and the next is there to take his place, and once they find out what I’ve done, they’ll come after me too.”

“I’m curious, Miss Poppylan. Do you know who Vincent’s successor is?” Akuma leaned back in his chair, the pale white light of the lamp illuminating his face, long dark strands of hair falling onto his shoulders and the dark suit he wore.

“Quincey, I would guess.” Poppy shrugged.

“And do you really think that Quincey would attack you—the girl that his bodyguard and friend loves?” Akuma pressed. Poppy looked over at Tora, who looked away from her.

“I—I don’t know.” Poppy stammered.

“Let me explain to you what’s going to happen when Vincent Balthuman dies:” Akuma folded his hands in his lap, “Quincey will indeed take over the organization, but there will be a civil war. It’s no secret that several members of the organization, including Quincey himself, feel that Quincey would not be fit to lead the Balthuman Organization, and they’re not wrong.

“If there is a struggle for the top spot, it will all come down to man power. Looking at the break in loyalty that already exists, I’d say the only competition left would be Tora, and at that rate, your man will be dead long before the buck even drops.”

“Even more reason not to get involved.” Poppy pressed.

“You didn’t let me finish.” Akuma purred. “Once the civil war begins, that’s where my client steps in, we will come for Quincey’s spot and overthrow the Balthuman’s once and for all. Rest assured, Quincey can go back to his life as a writer, and he will be taken care of, and you. You can go back to your life before, and, if he wants to, Tora can go with you.”

Poppy glanced over at Tora who was looking down at his lap, body completely relaxed, listening to the conversation.

“How do I know you’ll keep your end of the deal?” Poppy pressed.

“Because if they don’t, I’ll make them.” Akuma explained. “My job is ultimately to protect you and keep an ear to the ground for you. You’ll have two of us on your side.”

“And what do you get out of this?” Poppy asked.

“I get paid.” Akuma put his arms out simply. “I’m a simple man. I’m offered a job, and I get the job done. Once it’s done, I get paid.”

“And what if you can’t get the job done?” Poppy crossed her arms.

“Why wouldn’t I be able to get the job done?” Akuma seemed like whatever she said just wasn’t computing for him, and to be fair, it wasn’t. He had never failed. Sure, there had been some close scrapes, but he always came out on top. Besides, his legend wasn’t built around those close scrapes—they were built around his many terrifying successes.

“What if I refuse? What if I don’t want to do it?” Poppy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“If you refuse? It’s highly unlikely, but I’ll play your game.” Akuma smiles, pushing himself out of his seat. “Have you ever felt that sense of being watched? That paranoia that you can’t shake?

“There is a demon in the shadows just waiting for you, and only he knows when you’re alone. Only he knows when you’re most vulnerable.”

Akuma stood behind Tora, his face obscured by his long hair as he put his hands on the arm of Tora’s chair.

“I know where you go and when. I know what you look like when you’re sleeping, the way your face looks when he’s touching you. And I know where he goes when he tells you he’s out on business. I know where he hides when he can’t face what he’s done.

“I know what a lethal dose of poison looks like, what it does to the body, and I know what it feels like to puncture internal organs with a well forged blade. But most of all, I know the sound a person makes when he takes his last breath.

“But really, Poppy. All those are trivial things. What I hope you understand is that there’s nowhere you or he could ever go that I wouldn’t find you no matter what precautions you take or how good you think you are at hiding your tracks.”

Akuma made his way over and behind Poppy’s chair, much to Tora’s disapproval, and Poppy nearly fainted out of terror listening to him. This was the first time in her life she felt genuinely afraid of something, shaken to her core. He leaned down into her ear and whispered,

“I’ll give you 48 hours from now to make your decision. And at the end of that 48 hours, I’ll find you, wherever you are, and you’ll give me your decision.” 

At that, he made his way over to the balcony door, looking out the window.

“It’s been a pleasure speaking with you, Poppy.” He told her. “I’ll see you in 48 hours.”

And at that, he opened the door to the balcony and disappeared. Tora immediately pulled Poppy into his lap, seeing how visibly shaken she was. She trembled in his lap as he held her to him, squeezing her tightly, and for the first time in her life, she no longer felt safe in his arms.

“Poppy,” Tora whispered. “I’m going to leave this decision up to you. Whatever you decide, I’ll be behind you every step of the way.”

Poppy nodded, clutching at his jacket, trying to calm herself down. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t, and she was well aware of that. The question was: which one would be better for the two of them in the long run? And would Akuma really be able to protect her if the shit hit the fan?

Tora sighed, taking her in his arms, and saying,

“Let’s go relax.”

He walked her into the bathroom, starting a hot bath for her, and she stripped her clothes off. Tora took his shirt off, watching her tie her hair up and sink down into the tub. 

He ran his hands along her shoulders, up to her neck and began pressing delectable circles into her neck, trying to massage the tension out of her neck. Once that tension had released, he planted gentle kisses on her neck, moving his hands to her shoulders, pressing with his thumbs, and Poppy leaned into him. He kissed her along her jawline and neck, feeling her relax for him. She took his chin, guiding his lips toward her own and kissing him.

“Feel better?” He asked.

“Almost.” She sighed.

“What can I do?” He inquired, hands still working circles in her neck and shoulders.

“You can move your hands lower.” She told him. 

“Is that so?” He growled. “Where exactly would ya like me to help relieve some of that tension?”

“Here.” She said breathily, reaching up and taking his hand. “Let me show you.”

She guided his hand over her body, and deeper into the water, the warmth, and some very capable fingers, helping Poppy let go of all of that tension she had been feeling with gusto.


	27. Masquerade

27

“There’s a black tie event tonight.” Tora told Poppy, who was drying her hair after taking a shower. “A dance with masks and shit.”

“Oh? You mean a masquerade? What for?” Poppy pressed.

“Yamamoto and Balthuman partnership.” Tora told her. “It’s sort of a celebration of putting differences aside and all that.”

“Great.” Poppy thought. “I have to see that stupid bitch Mizuki—again. As if I don’t already see her everyday right now.”

“I don’t have anything black tie worthy.” She told Tora, clearing her throat.

“I wasn’t sure if ya did, so I called down to the front desk and they delivered some shit for you ta wear.” Tora told her, motioning to the dress hanging on the back of the door. Poppy raised her eyebrows and scoffed,

“Some shit, huh?”

“Aw, come on, Poppy. You know I don’t know anything about girls stuff.” Tora mumbled, turning away from her, his face flushing.

“No?” Poppy teased. “I seem to remember you unhooking my bra with one hand. Flinging my panties across the room like a slingshot. I’m not dumb, Tora. I know you’ve had your women.”

“I—you—they. Let’s not talk about this!” He growled, running his hands through his hair.

“Aw, come on.” Poppy prodded. “I bet you’ve ripped off a ton of formal dresses in your day, haven’t you?”

“And with that, I’m going down to Ice Bar. Jesus Christ, Poppy, what the actual fu—“ and at that, the door slammed closed and a very flustered Tora stomped his way down to Ice Bar while Poppy cackled in the bedroom.

“Well, let’s see what we have here.” Poppy mumbled, and grabbing the dress.

****

“And then she started talking about all the girls I fucked.” Tora griped, the amber liquid in his glass swirling around in the glass. “And I know that’s a fucking trap, so I got the hell out.”

Guy nodded sympathetically and sighed,

“Yeah, big bro. There was one time I stayed and told her it didn’t matter how many girls I been with, she’s the only one I wanna be with.” 

“And? What happened?” Tora drank.

“She said, ‘Oh, so you’ve been with a lot of girls, huh?’” Gyu’s voice was pitched higher to imitate the girl he was talking about. Tora shook his head, feeling deep in his soul where he was coming from.

“And that’s why I got the fuck out.” Tora mumbled, finishing off his drink. He noticed a few eyes in the room glancing toward the entrance of the bar and his brow furrowed in confusion, as he turned to look over his shoulder.

And there she was.

She looked like an angel.

A haltered silver sequined dress hugged her curves beautifully, the neckline a deep v, dipping almost all the way down to her stomach, and there were two diamond cutouts, revealing her smooth skin on both sides of her body. Around her neck, she wore the necklace Vincent had given her, her ears, dripping with diamonds, chandelier earrings that hung nearly down to her shoulders. The masked that adorned her face was an intricate silver glittered mask, the outside of the mask a lacy, gauzy white, wrapped around the back of her head. Her hair was piled up into a cascade of curls, flowing onto her shoulders, which had been dusted with a sparkling silver highlight.

Poppy turned to a man at the door, asking a question and Tora nearly fell apart seeing the back of the dress of which, there was none. The whole back of the dress was bare down just above the base of her hips. He felt his mouth go dry and his pants tighten significantly just looking at her. 

He wanted to get down on his knees right then and there and crawl over to her, strip her down, and take her in front of the whole club. 

That was his woman, and he was more than happy to spend the rest of his life worshipping at her feet.

“She’s beautiful.” He heard Gyu tell him, nudging him out of his fantasy. Poppy turned toward Tora and made her way over to him, a devilish smile on her lips, and as she approached, he scrambled to get to his feet, buttoning his jacket and clearing his throat.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart.” He told her, offering his arm, which she gladly took, and off they went to the masquerade.

***

Poppy was tired of mingling. Vincent had been by her side, introducing her to several high profile guests, and she was flat out exhausted. Many of the guests were charmed by Poppy, and she tried her best to really maintain a good image.

In the back of her mind, she wondered when she would see Akuma again, and she worried about her future because of it. The last thing she wanted to do was piss off Vincent Balthuman, but she guessed that making Akuma upset was far more frightening.

Tora kept his eyes on Poppy all night, not just because he wanted to make sure she stayed safe, but because she was stunning to look at. He watched the eyes of the men in the Yamamoto organization linger on her, shamelessly taking her body in even when she caught them staring, and nodded politely to them in recognition. He watched the guests who shook her hand hold it just a little longer than they should, their gaze remaining on her just a few moments more to make it uncomfortable.

“Can’t keep your eyes off the little virgin, can you?” He heard that annoyingly familiar voice press, and who else would be speaking to him but Mizuki Yamamoto. Naturally, she clothed herself in red, always vying to be the center of attention, and as expected, her breasts were practically exposed as well. Tora said nothing, putting his hands in his pocket and turning away from her, his gaze still fixed on Poppy.

“She does clean up nicely, I’ll give her that.” Mizuki smiled. 

“For once, we agree on something.” He nodded. She smiled, stepping into his line of sight, and Tora’s gaze darkened. He stood a little taller and looked down at her, trying to intimidate her by saying,

“Move out of my way.”

“Would it help if I got down on my knees?” She asked, sinking down in front of him seductively.

“Actually, it would help if you just backed the fuck off.” He told her, sick of the games. Mizuki rolled her eyes, getting up off the floor, and griped,

“It’s fine. You’ll be over that little bitch in a week’s time. Once you get a taste of that virgin pussy, you’ll come crawling back to a more educated woman, who knows what pleasure looks and feels like.”

Tora grabbed her by the wrist, got right into her face, and snarled,

“Talk about my future wife like that one more time, and I’ll rip your jaw off.”

Mizuki’s eyes widened at the phrase “future wife.” Holy shit. So someone had finally tamed him. What a shame. He was an exquisite lay, and she was going to miss him for that. Tora released her, his focus back on Poppy and Mizuki turned without another word and walked away.

Tora watched as Poppy excused herself, heading toward the building foyer. He could tell she needed a break from all the mingling and smiling. He followed her out the doors and watched as she headed out toward a balcony, rolling her neck and shoulders around to relieve some of the stress she was feeling.

As she was passing back through the empty foyer, a hand suddenly reached out and snatched Poppy’s wrist, placing a hand over her mouth and pressing her against the wall. Poppy’s heart was beating frantically until she looked up and saw Tora gazing down at her, gold mask highlighting those beautiful amber eyes.

“You scared me.” Poppy breathed, and when he didn’t respond, she said,

“Are you okay?”

He dipped his head down, kissing her, tasting her, tongue exploring her mouth as he reached down, picking her up. She wrapped her arms around him, her legs fastening tight around his waist. He broke the kiss, and leaned in toward her ear, causing her to shiver at the sound of his voice,

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw ya in Ice Bar.”

He kissed her again, hands on her face, and he growled against her lips,

“And if there weren’t so many goddam people here, I would take you right here and right now.”

“Tora.” Poppy had meant to chastise him with the sound of her voice, but it came out more lusty than she had intended.

“When you say my name like that,” he said, kissing her again, “it makes it hard to focus on anything but fucking you.”

“Well, you’d better try.” A voice came from about ten feet away from them, and both of their heads snapped toward the sound of the voice. Akuma was leaning against one of the marble pillars, tossing a lighter in his hand, red mask across his face, but they would know him anywhere. “Because your 48 hours is up.”

Tora put Poppy down, pushing her behind him, and she put a gentle hand on his arm to let him know she was okay, stepping in front of Tora, and saying,

“You didn’t leave me much of a choice.”

“Au contraire.” Akuma flicked the lighter open, his fingers grazing the fire, before flicking it shut again. “I gave you a choice. Granted had you gone against what I wanted, I probably would have eaten your liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.”

Poppy looked absolutely disgusted and Akuma burst into loud boisterous laughter, causing Poppy to stumble backward into Tora, who caught her easily.

“Not a Silence of the Lambs fan, eh?” He laughed. “Oh, come on. There’s no way I could possibly do that to you. I find fava beans repulsive.”

Akuma scrunched up his nose at that, and Poppy regained her composure.

“Okay. So what now?” Poppy asked.

“Ah Ah Ah. Not so fast.” Akuma said, tossing his lighter up into the air again. “Now before we continue, I’m going to need a verbal agreement for my own personal records.”

“Fine. I agree to the terms you’ve presented me with.” Poppy hastily consented.

“Excellent.” Akuma smiled. He strode forward, and Poppy flinched, causing Akuma to stop and roll his eyes. “Oh, come now, Poppy. I’ve been here all night long, and I’ve been watching you the last 48 hours. You should know by now I don’t want to hurt you. You’re my business partner now.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess.” She explained.

“My business card.” He handed her his card—a sleek black card with only his name and number.

“You—have a business card?” She found it almost laughable that a mercenary would carry business cards around. 

“Of course. I do run my own business.” He told her like it made absolute sense. Poppy reached into her purse to grab one of her own, but Akuma stopped her, waving his cell phone, and saying,

“No need. Already have your contact information.”

“Of course you do.” Poppy said dryly.

“I’ll be in touch.” Akuma waved over his shoulder, heading back to the party.


	28. The Weakest Link

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A familiar face makes his appearance here. Pay close attention for it :D

28

“Vincent has called all the major lieutenants together for an emergency meeting.” Tora said, putting his phone back into his pocket.

“Why?” Poppy asked, clutching the ring at her chest, fingering the necklace nervously.

“I’m not sure.” Tora told her. “Just a phone call saying to get to his office immediately.”

“Do you think he knows?” Poppy pressed. It had been three days since the masquerade, and Poppy hadn’t heard a word from Akuma. She continued with business as usual at Tanaka’s, trying to calm her jumpy nerves anytime Vincent’s name was brought up. She knew she was a terrible liar, and what’s worse, she had a guilty conscience. She hoped everyday that she wouldn’t have to face him in his office alone or she might explode from nervousness.

Tora turned toward her, his face unreadable, and he sat down on the bed, reaching for Poppy’s hand, saying,

“Ya need to calm down, sweetheart. You’re going to make yourself sick worrying the way that ya are.”

“I know. I know.” She breathed, fidgeting with her ring even more. Tora reached up, stilling Poppy’s hand, and bringing it to his lips.

“As much as I fuckin hate that bastard, Akuma, he’s good at what he does.” Tora told her. “You won’t know he’s there unless he wants you to, and he never shows his hand unless he’s already won.”

Poppy took a deep breath and nodded.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She sighed. He trailed his fingers along her cheek and told her,

“Ya don’t need to be sorry. Just understand how this stuff works. Unless you or I say something or give it away, no one is going to know.”

She nodded, and he kissed her forehead, moving to get off of the bed. Poppy reached out, snatching the cuff of his shirt, and pulling him toward her.

“No way you’re leaving me with a little kiss like that.” She teased.

“Oh, yes ma’am.” He teased, leaning in, pulling her forward by her neck, and kissing the sense out of her, before he got up and left the room.

“Well.” She sighed. “Now, what am I going to do?”

Poppy got up, and stretched her legs.

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to chill out. I need something to get this stress out, and since Tora isn’t here...”

She headed to the closet, grabbing a pair of leggings, her tennis shoes, and a relay tank. The gym in this hotel was world class, and she knew there were several ways to get that stress out in the gym. She reached into the closet, borrowing Tora’s backpack, and threw in some essentials: deoderant, a water bottle, hand wrap, and a towel. She threw her hair up into a ponytail, and off she went.

***

Vincent sat at the end of the table, clearly agitated, and everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably. Tora sat down next to Vincent, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag.

“Now that we are all here,” Vincent began, running his hands through his hair to release that tension he was feeling. Tora wondered how he hadn’t gone bald with the amount of times he ran his hands through his hair. Must have been good genetics. “Let’s get down to business.”

The table quieted down, listening to Vincent carefully. He motioned to one of the underlings to get him a glass of whiskey, which he did quickly, setting in down on the table.

“We have been having some—issues with shipments going missing since our deal with Yamamoto went through.” Vincent explained, trying hard to keep his temper in check, but the strain in his voice suggested otherwise.

“How many have gone missing?” Someone asked. Tora wasn’t sure who, but it was someone closer to the end of the table.

“About a quarter of a million dollars worth.” Scharch mentioned, toying with his glass at the end of the table. It was clear that Scharch was in deep shit for not catching this sooner by the way that he had no trace of humor in his voice.

“And the cameras in the vicinity?” Another person mentioned near the end of the table.

“All have been tampered with. Someone uploaded a continuous loop of the shipyard, and security didn’t notice the time and date stamps hadn’t changed.” Vincent growled. 

“Someone is getting offed.” The guy sitting next to Tora murmured. Tora glanced over at the guy next to him, took a drag of his cigarette and blew it in his face. He coolly turned his attention back to Vincent.

“Someone in organization is double dipping.” Vincent hissed. “And that someone is in this room.”

“Why would you think it’s one of us?” The guy next to Tora asked, and Vincent shot him a look that had the guy shitting his pants.

“Because, you inane little dipshit, nobody else has the security clearance needed to be able to fix the cameras like all of you do.” Vincent hissed. Tora glanced down at the end of the table toward Scharch, whose lips curled up into a sick smile at hearing Vincent chastise the new lieutenant. 

“Sir.” The lieutenant conceded, wholly embarrassed by his question.

“I’m feeling particularly generous today,” Vincent picked up his whiskey, swirling it around, “if one of you comes forward now, I won’t kill you. You’ll be stripped of your title, put back into grunt work, and beaten, but you won’t be killed on my honor. This is the one time I will offer this to you.

“Once I figure out which one of you did this to me, I will rain down hell on you and rip each one of your extremities from your body. I will douse your body in boiling fucking hot tar, and then I will peel your goddam skin from your body while you are alive and screaming.

“So, choose wisely, whoever it is that’s the rat fucker in this room because I won’t be this nice again.” 

Vincent’s voice was chillingly calm, and he made most of the men in the room squirm. The only ones who were used to this talk were the ones who had been with Vincent from the beginning like Tora and Scharch. They knew he would make good on his promises, but never felt afraid when it wasn’t them he was after, particularly because they had built their life around intimidation and fear. There was little he could say that truly intimidated them, and they knew to keep their mouth shut and offer as little information as possible.

The room sat in a thick silence, each of the men in the room refusing to look at one another. Tora put his head back on his chair, spinning the chair back and forth, waiting for the Spanish Inquisition to end.

“Very well, then.” Vincent said. “The witch hunt has begun. Pray that the light of fucking god doesn’t land on you.”

Light of god? From Vincent? Tora’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head hearing that. Maybe the fire of Satan, but hardly the light of god.

“You’re all dismissed.” Vincent sighed. “Get out of my sight.”

Everyone moved to get up before Vincent paused, turning his attention sharply toward Tora, and pointing,

“Except—for you.”

Everyone paused looking at Tora for a moment before exiting the room, thanking their lucky stars that it wasn’t them that Vincent wanted to have a word with. Scharch, being the fucker he was, chuckled on his way out. Tora put his cigarette out in the ash tray, wishing it was Scarch’s fucking face, with a simple thought,

“Aw fuck.”

The doors closed with a simple click and Vincent motioned for Tora to sit back down.

“I have this strange feeling,” Vincent began, “that the one who is doing this is someone very, very close to me.”

Tora felt a sharp pang of anxiety jolt through his body, but he kept a straight face.

“What makes ya think it’s not one of the new guys?” Tora asked, leaning forward, forearms on the table, hands clasped together, listening intently to Vincent.

“Because they knew everything from shipment times to shipment dates. They knew which specific crate it was and where it was located. They knew all of the security codes and what cameras to avoid. They even knew when the shift change was because that’s when this happened. This fucker went in completely as a ghost, and managed to do all of this and slip out in about five minutes.” Vincent told him.

“Impressive.” Tora nodded.

“Very.” Vincent agreed dryly. “Which is what makes me feel like it’s someone close to me.”

Tora nodded, deep in thought at this, before Vincent turned to him, saying,

“Is there something you want to tell me?” 

Tora’s heart nearly shattered out of his chest at the directness of the question. 

“No.” Tora told him.

“Nothing particular comes to mind?” Vincent pressed.

“Is there something you want to accuse me of?” Tora asked, keeping a calm voice though his patience was wearing thin.

Vincent sat back in his chair, reading Tora’s face, narrowing his eyes at him for a moment.

“Nothing at all.” Vincent smiled, but that smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Good.” Tora said. “Anything else?”

Vincent shook his head, and Tora got up from his chair feeling like he had just dodged a bullet. Vincent’s eyes followed Tora all the way out the door, his hand covering his mouth as he sat deep in thought as Tora shut the door firmly between himself and his boss.

***

Poppy’s legs felt like jelly as she slowed the treadmill down to three miles per hour, trying to ease her breathing down a little before pushing stop on the treadmill. She put her hands on her hips, stepping off and paced around a little, taking deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. She slung the borrowed backpack over her shoulder, heading for her last workout—the punching bag. 

Poppy stripped her shirt off, wearing a sports bra for a top, pulling the ponytail holder out of her hair and tying it up again into a high ponytail. She reached into the backpack, wrapping her hands tightly and then stretched her legs out, swinging her arms across her body.

Poppy stood in front of the heavy boxing bag. She put her fists up high and began with a quick 1, 1, 2, jab, jab, cross, 1, 1, 2, jab, jab, cross, leaning in hard to each cross as she moved her feet quickly, trying to work off as much of that stress as possible. 1, 1, 2. 1, 1, 2. 1, 1, 2. It was a quick pace, and she felt her heart rate accelerating.

After a minute, she slowed down her pacing, with a simple 1, 2 movement. Cover, then jab. Cover, then jab for about thirty seconds. After that, it was back with a fury to the 1, 1, 2, her hits the heartbeat of the gym before heading back into the cover, then jab. 

On the final jab of the recovery, she felt the bag suddenly push back at her jab, sending her stumbling back a little, snapping her out of her exhausted state, putting her hands back up and aiming a hard jab at the bag out of frustration, again realizing it wasn’t moving like it did before. She stopped, examining the bag to see what happened, only to find Tora on the other side of the bag, holding it in place.

Poppy moved a strand of hair out of her face, pushing it through the sweat and onto the top of her head. Tora was wearing gray sweatpants, a black tank top, and his hair was pulled up into a ponytail with his now signature strawberry barrette.

“Why don’t we lose the bag, sweetheart?” Tora suggested. Poppy looked at him questioningly and Tora moved out onto the open mat, squaring himself up to go against her. 

Poppy took a quick swig of water, and then joined him out onto the mat. She took a deep breath, putting her hands up, and, learning from her previous mistakes, she came out of the gate fast as Tora moved at her quickly, and she threw a hard jab at his face. Tora moved his head quickly to the side, putting his hand up to block her, and pushing her back, but not before Poppy raised her leg up, aiming a quick kick to his side, making contact with him and causing him to stumble backward a little.

He regained his composure, but Poppy took the opportunity to attack while he was off balance, and she came at his chest, fists flying in a succession of quick blows, as Tora blocked what he could, waited for her to overrun, which she did, and then grabbed her around her waist, picking her up like a rag doll and tossing her easily sideways and to the ground, forcing her into submission.

Poppy lifted her hips, wriggling hard and twisting, finding a hole to get out of the submission, and then scrambled away from him and back up to her feet. Tora stood back up again, his hands at the ready. This time, he came at Poppy first, and she deflected a series of jabs, throwing her arms up near her face, waiting for a cross, which she deflected down, and then jumped up, aiming a quick jab which connected soundly with Tora’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward.

“Oh shit!” Poppy squeaked. She had found herself caught up in the moment, and had fought like she was in a true fight rather than a sparring session. She knew Tora was taking it easy on her and found herself shrinking backward when he looked over his shoulder at her, a glint of anger crossing over his eyes for a moment, before relaxing.

This was the second time she had effectively punched him in the face, and he found himself more than impressed...and instantly turned on.

“Alright. You want to play rough?” He purred at her. Poppy shook her head furiously,

“Nope. Nope. I don’t. Not with you.”

But he was already coming at her like a steam train, and she, in her state of panic, tried to move out of the way only to be caught and thrown to the ground easily with a loud yelp of,

“Oh fffuuuuccckkkk!” 

Before she hit the mat, Tora effectively sitting on her body. She tried thrusting her hips up as she had done with Scharch, but Tora was a lot bigger and heavier than Scharch. Plus, he was prepared for her to do that.

“Oh, get off, ya big oaf!” Poppy grunted.

“Nope. This is going to leave a nice shiner, and I’m gonna tell people it’s from you too.” Tora grinned.

“Good. Tell them I kicked your butt in a sparring match.” Poppy sulked.

“Oh, ya did, huh?” Tora teased, poking her sides because he knew they were ticklish. “How does the floor feel? Is it comfortable?”

“Ah, go fu—“

“Not nice. Besides, I don’t need to lie to everyone. Judging by the way everyone is staring at us right now, I’d say they all know who won.” Tora’s grin turned into a thousand megawatt smile as he continued to prod her at her disdain. 

Poppy moved her head to look around, and sure enough, the whole gym had stopped what they were doing to watch their sparring session, and much to her chagrin, to see her being sat on by Tora and poked relentlessly for his own pleasure.

“Oh, get off!” She snarled.

“Alright, but on one condition.” He poked her again, enjoying watching her jerk away.

“Jeez, fine! What is it?” She seethed, fielding another poke to the side.

“Kiss me, right here, with all these people staring at us. And not just a peck, I mean a full on, not-because-I’m-about-to-die-but-an-I’m-about-to-fuck-you type kiss.” Tora continued poking her until she finally shouted,

“Okay! OKAY!”

Tora got off of her, helping her up. He gave her a moment to collect herself, and Poppy walked toward him, swept the ground with her leg, knocking him off his feet and flat onto his ass.

“Poppy, what the fu—“

And at that, she sat in his lap, yanked him forward by his tank top and crushed her lips to his. He jerked her body forward by her hips, roughly setting her over him so she could see exactly what she was doing to him when she kissed him like that. He was somewhat surprised though that she actually did what he had asked her to do and so unabashedly. She put her hands on his face, pulling him in, deepening the kiss and then wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers grabbing the strawberry barrette out of his hair, letting those dark locks fall over his face, where she could wrap her hands in his hair, which she did, vigorously pulling on his hair, causing him to growl against her lips.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He growled against her lips. “Do that again, and I’ll rip into those cute little leggings right now. I don’t give a shit if the whole gym is watching us.”

Poppy smiled against hips lips, planting a sweet kiss on his lips, before getting off of him, grabbing the backpack, and saying,

“See you in the room.”

Tora turned over on his stomach, knowing he was going to need more than a short moment to chill himself out, before he headed back to the room, where he would take sweet revenge on Poppy for that little floor sweep and hair pulling stunt.

***

Somewhere, on Ares Street, a lighter flicked on and off, long, pale fingers sweeping over the flame, causing it to dance for a short moment, casting an orange glow on that pale, slender face, black snakelike eyes taking in the darkness of the alley. His shoulder had become damp from leaning up against the slimy brick wall for longer than he would have liked.

“We ran into a bit of trouble in the shipyard.” He heard a voice say in front of him. Akuma was slightly impressed that he hadn’t heard him approaching. 

He flicked the lighter on and back off, a flash of blue hair appearing and disappearing in the orange flame.

“He knows.” Akuma sighed. Trouble. Always trouble. 

“This is why I work alone.” Akuma thought. The other voice said nothing for a moment, before asking,

“How do you want to proceed?”

Akuma flicked the lighter on and back off, on and back off. A hand with an ace tattooed on it and two silver rings, reached up to a narrow face, golden eyes shining out of the darkness as the lighter flicked on and back off.

“Eliminate the weak link.” Akuma said easily, flicking the lighter on and off again. He heard a sigh in the darkness, and a pause, before the other voice begrudgingly said,

“Fine.”

The lighter flicked on, a wide, sinister smile stretching out across a pale face with narrow snakelike eyes in the darkness, dancing through slender fingertips before the flame went out

With a simple

Click.


	29. The Weakest Link (Part 2)

29  
Akuma approached him simply—while he was working at the Ice Bar. He leaned over the bar easily, his hair touching the iced glass of the bar top as Gyu finished serving someone near the end of the bar. The few patrons that were near Akuma cleared out, seemingly uncomfortable being near him. When Gyu turned to Akuma, he froze. Akuma glanced up at him for a moment before saying,

“Not going to serve a paying patron?”

Gyu set his jaw, considering his options, but eventually put a coaster on the bar, asking,

“What can I get you?”

“Your loyalty.” Akuma grumbled simply, picking the coaster up and twirling it between his fingers.

“Yeah. Very funny.” Gyu snorted, turning to do some of his maintenance work. Akuma’s hand shot out, snatching Gyu’s wrist, yanking him forward, causing Gyu to stumble into the bar, only a few inches from Akuma’s face.

“I assure you. This is no joke.” Akuma seethed. “If I wanted to play a joke on you, I’d put your brother’s severed head in a box, and then ask you for your loyalty.”

Gyu didn’t understand the humor, and instead felt immediately terrified of this man holding his wrist captive.

“Alright. I’m listening.” Gyu’s breath was trembling, and he was trying to keep his shit together and clearly failing at it. Akuma held Gyu’s stare for an uncomfortably long time, before releasing his wrist. Gyu stepped back, bumping into the liquor and rubbing his wrist.

“I need you to do something for me—something that should be rather easy for you, considering your specialties.” Akuma told him.

“My—specialties?” Gyu inquired.

“I understand you’re rather gifted with technology.” Akuma clarified. “Besides that, your lower clan status renders you essentially invisible. You work at several places owned by Vincent Balthuman, despite your hatred for him, and you do it contentedly because you like making money, but also because it helps you forget about why you were made to join this organization in the first place—what Tora and Quincey had to do because of you.”

Gyu’s face softened in shame, reliving those moments he didn’t want to relive.

“Go on.” Gyu sighed.

“I need you to tamper with a camera feed—loop some footage.” Akuma told him simply. “I also need schedules for shipment and shift change.”

“And why would I do this for you?” Gyu grumbled.

“Out is the goodness of your heart? Because you hate Vincent Balthuman as much as many of your clan members do?” Akuma questioned. “No?”

Gyu raised an eyebrow in question. Akuma smiled, rummaging through his phone and clicking on a link to reveal a live feed from a camera. Gyu’s stomach dropped in horror as he saw a mess of red hair, several piercings and tattoos—his brother, sitting in a windowless room, bound, gagged.

Akuma tapped his phone’s screen and a red and green microphone option appeared. He tapped on the green microphone and said,

“Do it.”

Gyu watched in horror as a man with pliers approached his brother, choosing one of his many piercings and yanking hard on it, a scream erupting from the screen. Akuma turned the screen off, putting it in his jacket pocket and folding his hands together.

“So,” he cleared his throat. “Is that a yes?”

***

Gyu had been listening intently for nearly a week to multiple sources discussing the shipments openly around him. Akuma had been right, much for his disappointment—no one ever really did notice him, even when he was ballsy enough to pick up a pen and paper and jot down what they said right in front of them. He was nothing to them, and he hated it.

Part of him relished the thought that he would be getting back at these people that didn’t give a shit about him. He enjoyed the fact that he would have a part in taking something from them, ripping the rug right from under them...but he didn’t relish the thought that it might hurt Tora or Poppy in the process.

“Man, big bro.” Gyu found himself saying to Scharch, who sat at the bar in front of him. “You look exhausted. Are you alright?”

Gyu places a beer in front of Scharch, who sighed, taking the beer, and said,

“The shipping schedule has been a bitch.”

“Why is that?” Gyu pressed, trying to seem uninterested.

“Two large shipments every Tuesday and no men to verify, count, and run the product. Not to mention the damned security crew is too busy getting their dicks sucked while they’re on the job rather than watching the screen.” Scharch vented.

“Have you had issues with that before?” Gyu asked.

“Yeah, a few dudes got in last week, but they were fucking idiots. They fucking just went straight up to the container and tried to break in. Luckily, a few guys were on site when it happened. Walked into the security booth and Mattarazzo was in the middle of getting head.” Scharch growled.

“Oh man, dude. That fucking blows.” Gyu sighed, crossing his arms.

“Very funny.” Scharch dryly said, taking another swing of his beer. 

That had been the last piece of information Gyu needed. Scharch was a lot more observant than the others, so he knew he would have to keep this information locked away until Scharch left.

***

It was raining on Ares Street, a torrential downpour that flooded many of the poorly designed streets. Filth floated freely in the streets, as Gyu put his hood up, shoved his hands in his pockets, fingering the flash drive, putting his head down and walking quickly toward the shipyard.

His phone buzzed, a private number appearing, and he put the phone to his ear:

“Location?”

“Five minutes away. Guard change in six minutes.”

“We will strike at six minutes to the second.”

Gyu sighed, his heart pounding out of his chest as he reached the little shack of a building that served as the main security hub of the building. At six minutes to the second, the door flew open, and out walked the guard. Gyu slipped in just behind him, plugging into the security system with the flash drive, and getting to work.

He had five minutes and five minutes only. His fingers flew across the keys on the keyboard before tampering with wires near the camera as the upload of the video loop worked.

As the loop loaded, he watched the camera, seeing Akuma essentially walk into the shipment container, take three accurate silenced shots, and take down the security detail. A nondescript blue car pulled into the shipyard, and four men in masks got out, loaded part of the shipment, and off they went.

Gyu glanced up at the monitor to see the looped footage was live. He looked closer at it and seethed,

“Fuck.”

He had forgotten to leave the time and date stamps to current time in order to erase any suspicion, but it was too late now. He took the flash drive from the slot, shoved it into his pocket, and off he went.

He reconvened with Akuma at a storage unit on Ares Street.

“Any issues?” Akuma asked. Gyu hesitated a moment. He worried about what telling the truth would mean for him or for his brother. He had, after all, completed the task without any issues, so it wouldn’t technically be a lie if he said,

“No.”

Which he did.

A glint of suspicion shone across Akuma’s eyes.

“Now would be the time to tell me if there’s an issue before I figure it out later to much more dire consequences.” Akuma warned him.

“No. I got the footage uploaded and was in and out without issue.” Gyu told him. Akuma nodded, and unlocked the storage unit, sliding the door up to reveal his brother, bleeding, in pain, but still alive.

“Your contract has been fulfilled. Payment will be sent to your bank account in the next hour. You may take your brother and go.” Akuma told him, watching Gyu run to his brother, pick him up under his arm, and support him as he made his way out the door with him.

***

“Is it done?” A voice on the other line spoke to Akuma.

“It’s done. We have a portion of the shipment.” Akuma responded, tossing his lighter up in the air. He leaned against a tree, watching the red car come to a screeching halt in front of him, and watching Poppy climb on top of Tora and start going at him.

“Might I ask.” Akuma pressed. “Why only 25%? Why not the whole thing?”

“I don’t want to raise red flags right away. I want to watch them squirm, not realizing what’s happening until it’s already been done. Especially that fucker Scharch.” The voice explained. “Then I want to watch them tear themselves apart from the inside.”

Akuma made a noise of assent, continuing to watch the red car rock back and forth furiously in front of him.

“How is he?” The voice seemed somewhat concerned, and that annoyed Akuma for some reason.

“I’d say he’s on cloud nine right now.” Akuma responded.

“What? Is he getting stoned?” The voice asked, a smile in his tone.

“Something like that.” Akuma told him, beginning to hear the muffled moaning sounds from the car. Akuma turned his back on the live porn happening in front of him and grumbled,

“I can’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right about this whole operation.”

“You got the shipment didn’t you?” The voice asked.

“We did, but Gyu seemed a little—tense when I asked if everything went off without an issue.” Akuma explained. The line went quiet for a moment.

“As long as there’s nothing that seems too suspicious, we will be able to keep taking from the shipment containers for the next few weeks without being detected. I’m not sure I would be too concerned. Gyu seems like he knows what he’s doing.” The voice said.

“Very well.” Akuma said, hearing the sounds of a quick tension releasing round of sex coming to an end as he turned back around. “I’ll be in touch.”

***

The nightlife was buzzing in the Ice Bar that night. It was going to be a good night. He could feel it.

The women in the bar were beautiful, curves and bodies out of this world, and, much to his delight, they seemed interested in him, a few of them leaning across the bar, breasts spilling out onto the counter for his viewing pleasure. One in particular looked him dead in his eyes and sucked on a cherry. Gyu was sure he would have her in his bed by the end of the night, and he was looking forward to that soft, velvet skin on his body.

“Seems like you’re pretty popular tonight.” He heard a familiar voice say. Poppy leaned against the bar, grinning at him, as he jumped turning away from her to hide his obvious hard on.

“P—Poppy! What are you doing here? Where’s Tora?” Gyu stammered.

“I mean, I’m here because you told me I should come here for the night since Tora was working.” Poppy laughed.

“I did? Oh, I did!” Gyu laughed nervously. A few of the women eyed Poppy, before turning their eyes back to Gyu with a seductive smile.

“Need a wingwoman?” Poppy offered.

“Nah.” Gyu grinned. “I think I’ve—uh—already taken flight for the night.”

“Ewww.” Poppy wrinkled her nose up, before cracking up at his horribly sexual joke. Poppy had been in the middle of laughing at Gyu’s joke, when she heard it: the quick shatter of glass followed by a gentle whizzing, the sickening crunch and squish of the entry and exit of a high trajectory bullet. Before she could open her eyes, she felt the warm splatter of blood on her face, and the searing sting of that same bullet finally lodging itself in her shoulder.

Poppy flew backward off the chair, onto the floor. At first, nobody in the bar moved until someone saw the bullet wounds and let out a blood curdling scream. From there, it was mass hysteria, people pushing and shoving to exit the bar, stampeding, running over each other to try to make it out, despite the fact that only one bullet had been fired.

For the first few moments, all she could hear was that loud ringing in her ear, and she felt incredibly annoyed by it. A haze settled around the edges of her vision as her body fought off the shock of the situation. Finally, she turned her eyes to the bar: Gyu was lying flat on his stomach across the bar, eyes wide open, a hole straight through his forehead as blood pooled onto the bar, dripping down in a steady pattern onto Poppy’s feet.

“Oh...my...” Poppy let out a shrill, inhuman shriek of shock and horror, drowned out by the panicked crowd. 

“Keep it together. Keep it together, Poppy.” She told herself, scrambling backward, and onto her feet.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop the bleeding.

Bleeding.

Stop the bleeding.

Her brain echoed. 

Poppy assessed her wound thinking to herself,

“Oh no. This is not a good place to get shot. Hopefully it missed the artery. Need to hurry just in case.”

Poppy looked around the bar for something to use as a tourniquet, spotting a dish towel near the bar sink. She stumbled toward the bar sink, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around the wound, pulling it tightly with her teeth, the blood already seeping through the towel.

Medical help.

Help.

Get help.

Her brain was in such a fog, trying to explain what to do, but the words were coming in fragments, and she was desperately trying to avoid the emotional trauma as long as she could. She wasn’t ready to face those questions yet.

Go.

Get.

Help.

Poppy stumbled out of the bar, into the lobby. For the most part, the lobby had cleared out. Poppy closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gathered herself. She headed toward the front desk, which had been abandoned and headed around the back. 

As calmly as she could muster, she picked up the phone and called for a car. She stumbled toward the seating area, taking deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth, blood pulsing in her ears and she picked up her cell phone, dreading the conversation they were about to have, and put the phone to her ear.

Like she assumed, the phone went straight to voicemail. She knew it was dangerous to keep phones on during jobs. She took another deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth again before leaving a message:

“Tora, i—it’s Poppy.”

Stop stammering. It’s okay. You can do this.

“Something really bad happened in Ice Bar tonight. I’m so sorry. Gyu has been shot, and he passed away. I’m so sorry, Tora.”

She was about to have a breakdown, but she caught herself. She needed to pull it together—for him.

“When you come back, there will probably be police cars. The shooting happened in the middle of the busy bar crowd. People freaked out and ran, so I doubt this will be swept under the rug. Be safe coming back here. I—I love you.”

And at that, she hung up the phone, putting her hands over her face, trying to keep it together and push Gyu’s face from her mind. Poppy’s phone buzzed again—the car she had called was there. 

Calmly, she got up, her legs still wobbly from the shock, and exited the building. By now, the blood has begun to run down her arm in torrents. She opened the car door, slid into the back seat, and collectedly said,

“I need to go to the hospital please. If you don’t want blood on your seat, I suggest you step on it.”

The driver looked in the back seat at Poppy, his eyes nearly popping out of his head at her wound, let out a loud,

“HOLY SHIT!”

And took off like a shot.

***

Tora dropped his bag outside of Vincent’s office. Without warning, the door flew open and Vincent abruptly said,

“Get inside, boy.”

Tora grabbed his bag, heading inside and Vincent turned on the television. Tora watched as several police cars arrived outside the street entrance to Ice Bar, reading the headline:

“ICE BAR SHOOTING: 1 DEAD, 15 INJURED” as the captions continued to roll across the screen. A sickening worry spread through his stomach as he dropped his bag again, anxiously dropping to the floor, scrambling through his bag, and turning his phone on. Vincent leaned against the desk, watching a Tora sympathetically as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Someone is declaring war on us.” Vincent murmured as Tora’s phone finally turned on. A voicemail popped up on the screen and he put it on speaker for both her and Vincent to hear:

“Tora, i—it’s Poppy.”

Tora’s shoulders sagged in relief at hearing her voice.

“Something really bad happened in Ice Bar tonight. I’m so sorry. Gyu has been shot, and he passed away. I’m so sorry, Tora. When you come back, there will probably be police cars. The shooting happened in the middle of the busy bar crowd. People freaked out and ran, so I doubt this will be swept under the rug. Be safe coming back here. I—I love you.”

Tora felt his whole body go numb. Gyu—the one person he actually trusted with his life in this gang besides Poppy. He was just...gone.

Vincent’s phone rang, and Vincent picked it up at one ring,

“Balthuman.”

He listened carefully, nodding as he listened to the voice on the phone. For a moment, his eyes flicked over to Tora and then away again as he nodded, listening for only a moment more before hanging up the phone. He turned to Tora, considering what he wanted to say, and then explained,

“It was a sniper. One shot only. It struck Gyu in the head, a clean shot through, but they aren’t able to find the bullet itself. Judging by the angle at which he was shot, they think it might have been from the office building across the street from Ice Bar—one of the higher floors.”

Tora nodded.

“I want you to go check it out. Figure out if the sniper left anything behind that would suggest who did this. Then, have the security team looking into the surveillance and CCTV in the area.” 

Tora was more than happy to comply, regardless of being exhausted from the job he had just done. He took his bag and headed out.

***

Tora was just in the middle of finishing up his sweep of the fifth floor when his phone buzzed. Ramsey was calling. Tora put the phone up to his ear, and Ramsey all but yelled,

“Where the fuck are ya?”

He felt an immediate sense of anger fleet through him before he replied,

“Watch ya fuckin mouth. I’m running a sweep of the area where the sniper was.”

“I called Vincent two hours ago ta tell him ta send ya to the Narin Regional Hospital.” Ramsey growled, obviously upset about something going on.

“What business do I have in a fuckin hospital? Gyu is dead—bullet to the head. What more could they do?” He snarled.

“Yeah, I know he’s dead. That’s not why I’m calling!” Ramsey seethed back.

“What are ya talking about then?” Tora yelled.

“Tora, ya girl’s been shot—took a pretty high caliber bullet to the shoulder.” Ramsey explained. “I told Vincent cause I knew ya were with him.”

All of the pieces suddenly clicked together.

“It struck Gyu in the head, a clean shot through, but they aren’t able to find the bullet itself.”

Vincent’s eyes flicking over to Tora before resuming the conversation. Son of a bitch. He knew. He knew and he didn’t tell Tora. He gave him a job that could’ve been done by a complete imbecile while she fucking suffered alone in the fucking hospital? Tora felt absolute rage boiling up inside of his body as he pushed the end button on his phone, hands shaking.

He grabbed his shit and took off like a shot.

***

Tora burst into the hospital lobby, barging straight toward the front desk.

“Poppylan Wilkes. Where is she?” He seethed, trying to keep it together. The receptionist shrank back away from the desk, immediately intimidated by him.

“Sir, visiting hours are over. You can come back—“ she squeaked.

“Please. I’m her—her boyfriend, and I just found out she was here and she was shot. Please let me see her.” He pressed. The receptionist pressed her lips together, and sighed,

“Alright. Five minutes.”

She led Tora back toward the recovery rooms, and through a maze of halls and doors before reaching her room. When he stepped in, Ramsey was sitting in the corner, reading a magazine, and Poppy was in the bed asleep.

“Oi, mate!” Ramsey was delighted to see him. “She’s sedated right now. They removed the bullet from her shoulder—missed the main artery, thankfully. Tis but a flesh wound.” Ramsey smiled. Tora shot a dark look at him, seething,

“A—flesh—wound.”

“Calm down, mate. I’m not the one ya want to be angry at, but if ya wanna go, I’ll gladly boot your ass through this window.” Ramsey growled. Tora closed his eyes and calmed himself down again.

“Here, you go ahead and head home. I’ll stay with her.” Tora suggested. Ramsey stood, stretching out, clapped Tora on the shoulder and said,

“Let me know what the doc says.”

Tora nodded and Ramsey headed out. Tora stood for a moment, staring at his tiny little woman asleep in a hospital bed, sighing. He went over to her, gently pulling down the shoulder of the hospital gown and saw the wound dressing, a tinge of red beginning to show through the sterile white, her shoulder wrapped up tight. He sighed, running his hands along her cheek before he sat down in the chair, leaned his head back and closed his eyes, dozing off.

****

“Tora.” He heard a soft voice call his name. His head snapped up, eyes opening and there she was, a look of concern on her face. 

“Poppy.” He shot out of his chair, moving over to her and taking her hand. “How ya feeling? Ya okay?”

“I’m fine. Perfectly fine.” She smiled.

“Why didn’t ya tell me? Why didn’t ya tell me ya were shot?” He asked her urgently.

“Tora, one of your good friends died last night, and I lived. I’m perfectly fine, and I didn’t—“

“This is not perfectly fine.” Tora growled, trying to keep his temper in check.

“I just didn’t want you to have to worry about me and your friend all at the same time. It’s just a minor injury, no artery damage, no nothing. I’m okay. I wanted you to be able to process this.” Poppy put her other hand over his. He paused for a moment, collecting himself, and asked,

“What happened?”

Poppy bit her lip, unsure if she was ready to talk about it quite yet. She didn’t know if she would be able to keep it together when she told him the story, but she knew he deserved to hear the truth. She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and said,

“Gyu invited me down for drinks so I didn’t have to be alone while you were gone. We were talking and having a good time. He had just finished telling me a joke. I was laughing, and then it—he—he—“

Poppy paused, trying to push the pain back, but the tears came anyway.

“A bullet just went straight through him and into my shoulder. I fell off the seat and, at first, no one noticed since it was one shot. It was so loud in there that I guess the sound got muffled, but I heard the whole thing. All of the sudden, someone saw him—saw the blood, freaked out, and it caused mass chaos.” She explained, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“People were running, shoving, screaming. And I—I just sat there staring up at his face.  
His eyes. It just. He was still smiling. And I screamed. I screamed so loud, but no one heard me because they were all running over each other to get out.” She shivered, and Tora could hear her heart rate increasing on the EKG machine.

“Did you see who shot him or where it came from?” Tora asked.

“No.” Poppy shook her head, beginning to shiver out of anxiety and fear. She put her hands over her face, wanting to erase all of that from her mind, knowing good and well it would be with her forever.

***

“You weren’t supposed to hit the girl.” A voice sneered over the telephone line. Akuma rolled his eyes, saying,

“She didn’t die. When I aimed, I took the trajectory of the bullet and the entry and exit into account. It’s a minor injury.”

“You know goddamn well the shoulder could have been fatal.” The voice had had enough. 

“Careful. You paid me to do a specific job, and that’s what I’m doing—the job you paid me for. If someone happens to get in the way, that’s to their detriment.” Akuma had lost any hint of humor in his voice.

“That’s right. I pay YOU to the a specific job. That job does NOT involve injuring one of the two people that will ensure the job is done correctly. Now that you’ve injured her, you risk him turning on us, and he’s more of a threat than she will ever be.” The voice hissed. “Fix this. Now.”

And the line went dead. Akuma pulled a switchblade out, flicking it open, and throwing it hard at the wall. It lodged deep into the wall. He paced back and forth, ripping the blade out of the wall and closing it.

People are so fucking meddlesome. Was it his fault that she chose to sit right in front of Gyu when he set up to strike? Besides, he knew it wouldn’t be fatal. Why did people have to live and die by these useless fucking emotions? It was so tiresome. 

Thank god he never had to deal with those or he might really be angry and just go kill his hirer. 

“No, no.” Akuma told himself. “I can’t kill him. Where would I get my money if I did?” No. Best to wait until after he got the job done, and then he could kill him and flay the girl. Yes, her skin would made a fine addition to his collection—maybe even the prize trophy of that collection.

He giggled to himself because what a thrill the hunt would be once he told her little warrior what he planned on doing after the job was done. For once, he was a worthy opponent, and that would just make the sound of her screams that much more pleasurable when he finally did succeed in getting past the boy.

What a pleasurable hunt indeed.


	30. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re still with me, THANK YOU! I really appreciate you sticking with me at this story progresses into new territory.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I want to know just who THE FUCK has been stealing from me and now who the fuck has been killing our people.” Vincent seethed. Another emergency meeting in less than a week. Another long and arduous session of Vincent trying to intimidate answers out of people that he was never going to get. Another day, another body from the Balthuman clan.

Vincent was at his breaking point, not used to being completely out of control in a situation like this. He hurled fruitless accusations at his own men, the witch hunt turning into a full on witch trial within the Balthuman Organization as the bodies continued to pile up. People were living their lives paranoid, either that Vincent would falsely accuse and punish them or that they would be just another body atop a mass grave.

Tora hated these meetings for two reasons:

1\. Because it meant he had to leave Poppy by herself with that psycho Akuma who could and would call her up at any moment, preferring to wait until Tora was out of the picture to get her involved in the takedowns happening.  
2\. Because he knew damned good and well that he was part of the reason the organization was falling apart, but Vincent wouldn’t dare suspect him, so he was forced to watch others who truly were innocent from what he knew be punished in order to intimidate the truth out of someone. It never worked.

“Do we have anything? Anything at all?” Vincent hissed. Another quiet room, another outburst on the way. “You’re all fucking useless! Get out of my sight!”

Everyone moved a little slower in the past week. Even Tora found himself in a bit of a slump as he trudged toward the parking garage to his car. He slid in, putting his head back against the seat, reaching into his center console for a cigarette. He lit it up, took a deep drag, and blew it out before saying,

“What the fuck do you want, Akuma?”

Akuma moved into the sight of the rear view mirror, a dark shadow, hair over his face—Tora felt like he was looking at the little girl from The Ring for a moment, and it would’ve been funny if he hadn’t been in the presence of a known serial killer.

“It’s finally your turn to roll the dice on the game board.” Akuma smiled. Tora could tell that the more Akuma was around people, the more unhinged he became. There was a reason he played his little murder games alone.

“What does that even mean?” Tora growled.

“Why, it’s your turn to strike at Vincent Balthuman.” Akuma told him.

“And that entails?” Tora pressed.

“There’s a new club under construction— Vice, the one Poppy has been working on, yes?” Akuma began.

“I’m listening.” 

“You’re going to cut his legs out from under him and allow Yamamoto to take the financial lead in the district.”

“How?”

“Those drugs we’ve been smuggling? They’re going to end up in the basement of the building in wine cases. You’re going to take them there.”

“What about Tanaka?”

“Don’t worry about him. Balthuman’s prints are all over this one.”

“And why would we want Yamamoto to take over financially?”

“Vincent loves two things: money and power. His organization has been plagued with a disease that’s eating him and his men up on the inside, the flesh of the organization stretched nice and taught. From here, you strike at his money. Take away the last business opportunity he has to be something beyond Ares Street like a warm blade ripping through that taught skin, while we are left to feast on the organs.”

“That’s fucking disgusting.”

“To each his own.”

“And where does Poppy fit into this?”

“She is your key into the building—quite literally. She will ensure that you have the means of entering the building from the back end for the delivery and the front end, by being on the list.”

“So you’re planning on throwing her under the bus? They’ll know it was her.”

“Jumping to conclusions again, Tora. Honestly, I have gravely misjudged your character when I considered you street smart.”

“Oh go fu—“

At that, Tora felt the cold steel of a blade on his throat. He paused, casting a bored look up into the rear view mirror.

“I am many things, but I am not a tolerant man.”

“Then how will she not be implicated.”

“Tora, you are her lover and her bodyguard. Why would you not be on the list? Besides, Tanaka and the Yamamoto girl are the one making the final decisions on the products entering the bar. They give the list to Poppy and she creates a list for the doormen.”

“Fine, but I can’t move all that shit by myself, ya know. It would take me way too long.” Tora took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out toward the windshield.

“Then find someone to help you.” Akuma was growing impatient, flicking the switchblade open and the shut.

“You want me to drag somebody else into this?” Tora looked deftly into the rear view mirror.

“Personally, I don’t give a fuck if you do this alone or if you hire an army of people. I do care that this stays under the radar as I’m sure you do. I’ll leave that to you to figure out.” Akuma growled.

“Gee. Thanks.” Tora spat. Akuma shot him a sharp glance, before reigning in his temper and saying,

“Don’t fuck this up.”

Akuma slipped silently out of the back seat of his car, and Tora leaned back, closing his eyes, taking in a deep drag, and blowing it out. He reached into his pocket, grabbing his phone, and dialing Poppy’s number.

“Tora? Is everything okay?” Poppy asked concerned. 

“Yeah, sweetheart. I was calling to check in on you. I’m assuming Akuma gave ya a second set of instructions?.” He took another drag of the cigarette, blowing it out. 

“How did you know?” Poppy seemed suspicious.

“Akuma was in my back seat when I got into my car.” Tora grumbled.

“Ohh, he wants to get frisky, huh?” He could hear the smile in her voice when she said it, and he realized, that for once, even though they were in the middle of a serious situation, she had learned how to make light of things and not worry as much.

“Too bad for him since the only panties I want to get in are yours.” He grinned, the orange glow lightning up his face.

“Perv.” Poppy teased.

“Guilty as charged.” He said. He pulled the phone away from his face and flipped to his phone screen, a picture of Poppy in her masquerade outfit the home screen. A smile played on his mouth for a moment and then he put the phone back to his ear.

“I’m worried about Tanaka getting sucked into this. He doesn’t deserve that.” Poppy told him, and he frowned. Even though Akuma had said only Vincent would take the fall for this, he knew that Tanaka would be implicated too. After all, it was his bar that the drugs would be in, regardless of who they belonged to.

“Sometimes, there isn’t another choice. When we agree to do these jobs, there are people who get hurt in the process.” Tora told her. “It’s not easy, but if it gets the job done right, then it’s the only choice we have.”

Poppy was quiet for a moment, considering this, and she mumbled,

“I don’t like it.”

He knew that voice. The wheels in her head were turning, trying to figure out a way for Tanaka to escape the consequences.

“I’m sorry, Poppy.” He said, and Poppy sighed.

“I’ll see you when you get back.” She said, and the line went dead.

“Love you, too.” Tora grumbled to himself, putting the phone back in his pocket, and finishing up his cigarette.

***

Tora sat in the white van, thankful that Poppy wasn’t with him to have to be involved in moving the product. He already knew if she was sitting in the passenger seat, she would probably be jumping at every little sound and movement, and he smirked at that thought.

“Daydreaming about my beautiful body, mate?” A dreamy voice asked from the passenger seat. Tora turned annoyed glance over at Ramsey who was leaning his head against the window, chomping on a piece of gum. He winked at Tora, and Tora wrinkled his nose in disgust, looking away from him.

“I don’t know why I ever asked ya to get involved in this in the first place.” Tora grumbled.

“You don’t have to pretend. I know it’s because you love the sound of my beautiful voice. The way my eyes light up when you’re around. The way your pants just—“ 

“Alright, alright. Cut the shit.” Tora rolled his eyes. Ramsey grinned even wider.

“We both know I’m here because Vincent has lost his shit.” Ramsey told him, that humor disappearing from his voice. “Not to mention the only two people in this organization that I trust are doing this, so I sort of figured I should probably get with it.”

Tora turned to look at him, and nodded. His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at the screen, seeing a private number text the words,

“Back alley. Open door.”

Tora moved the van around the back, seeing a number of other vans there—some caterers, some decor, some alcohol vendors. He tossed Ramsey a jumpsuit that read “Aviation Fine Wines” and they both suited up, taking one of the cases and moving toward the back door together.

At the door, a woman stepped out with a clipboard, and Tora felt a moment of panic.

“Company name?” The woman asked.

“Aviation Fine Wines.” Ramsey grinned, winking at the woman, who looked at him with a disinterested look, and checked the list.

“Hm.” She mumbled, picking up the pages to check the list. Tora and Ramsey exchanged a glance for a moment, before the woman finally said,

“Ah! Aviation. There you are. Room three on the right is where fine wines are located. Drop them in there.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Tora purred, intentionally making heated eye contact with the woman, a flirtatious smile on his lips, as she put the clipboard to her chest, her face flushing a bright red. She stumbled backward and out of the way.

Ramsey shook his head as they moved past her toward room three.

“I don’t know how you do that.” Ramsey sulked.

“Because I don’t look or act like creepy British pervert?” Tora wryly explained. Ramsey made a sound of feminine disappointment.

“I’m hurt.” He mocked. Ramsey reached behind him to open room three where other wine crates sat, and they dropped off the first box.

Upon heading back toward the van to continue unloading, he heard Poppy’s voice ask,

“Have the local whiskey distilleries arrived to deliver their product yet?”

He glanced through the open door to the bar, slowing nearly to a stop, where he caught a glimpse of her: tiny body wrapped in a black skin tight mini dress that glittered when it caught the multi colored lights of the bar, with a deep V exposing the gentle curve of those sensual breasts, long sleeves to cover that injured shoulder, and platform stiletto heels to give her a little more height. She must’ve sensed him staring at her on his way because she glanced over at him, making eye contact with him and her lips curved into a devilishly sexy smile.

“Oh shit.” He felt his whole body react to that smile, and he reminded himself to focus as he headed back to the van where Ramsey stood waiting with his hands on his hips impatiently. Tora came around the corner with a goofy smile on his face, and he made eye contact with Ramsey, his smile instantly disappearing. Ramsey was about to ask him what the fuck took so long, but instead he looked from his face to his crotch back to his face and then back to Tora’s crotch again before his mouth curved into a smart ass smile.

“See something ya like, asshole?” Tora growled.

“Nah, mate, but you certainly did.” Ramsey laughed.

“Ah fuck off.” Tora grabbed the other end of the box and they hauled it into room three together.

***

Tora put on a dark pair of jeans and black button up shirt, slipping on a dark pair of shoes as he pulled up to Vice. 

“I’m here.” He texted, and he waited. Tora glanced in his rear view mirror, half expecting Akuma’s Ring ass to pop up again, but the backseat was empty.

He checked the time: it was five til 10:00–prime opening hour for the bar, and people were lined up around the side of the building to get into Vice. He put his knuckle to his lips as he waited.

He checked his phone again. 10:05. Still no response from Poppy. 

“She did look pretty busy. I’m sure she’ll check her phone soon.” He reassured himself.

Fifteen minutes later and still no response from Poppy. It was unusual for her not to pick up her phone or at least read the message. Besides that, it was her idea to leave in the first place because being there when the bar got busted made her too nervous.

After thirty minutes, Tora was a nervous wreck. He couldn’t take it anymore, his paranoia getting the getter of him when it came to her and any lack of predictability.

He headed to the doorman, and told him his name. Much to the anger of many of the waiting patrons, he was let in immediately, his name clearly on the top of the list.

The club scene was insane—bodies were pressed together like sardines and a hazy smoke filled the air. Bright blue and purple flashing lights tinged the atmosphere a dreamy galactic color. He pushed through the crowd, moving toward the bar.

Woman after woman stood in his way, her hands pressing up against his chest or grazing along his dick. Some were bold enough to reach up and wrap her arms around his neck. In all cases, he would take her gently by her wrists, unglue her body from his and say,

“Not tonight, sweetheart.”

He finally managed to push through enough people when he saw the glitter of her dress turned profile at the bar. She was leaning against the bar, her hands curling through her hair flirtatiously as she spoke to whomever was seated at the bar in front of her, which immediately sent a pang of jealousy through his body. His lip formed into a sneer, and he felt his whole body tense watching her talk that way to someone. 

He tried to move his head to see who the fuck she was giving that kind of attention to, but he couldn’t quite see him. He pushed forward a little too hard, and a guy stumbled in front of him, turning to him furiously and saying,

“Hey fuckwad! Watch—“

And realizing he was staring at a chest, the guy craned his neck to look up, meeting Tora’s furious gaze, stepped out of the way, and squeaked,

“My bad, bro. My bad.”

Tora pushed through, watching Poppy throw her head back and laugh at something that whoever was across from her said, and he hated that. He wished he could make her laugh like that—a real laugh from the bottom of her stomach.

“Have I ever made her laugh like that?” He wondered to himself, trying to recall the last time he had seen her relaxed smile. Immediately, he felt ashamed that he couldn’t remember the last time she was totally relaxed around him besides after sex, and that was because she was tired. But when was the last time that she really felt relaxed just being around him? Had he ever done anything for her to make her feel that way?

He pushed closer, finally able to get to her, and he gently slid his hand on her lower back, tilting her head up and locking his lips with hers, completely turning his back and blocking from Poppy’s view the other person, whoever the fuck he was.

“Tora! You’re here early!” She grinned.

“Am I? It’s 10:45.” His voice had come out a little more clipped than he had intended. 

“Alright, fucker.” He chastised himself. “She didn’t do anything wrong. Calm the fuck down.”

“Oh my gosh! It is? I completely lost track of time!” She panicked, snatching her phone and looking at the missed texts from Tora.

“Yeah. You seemed—preoccupied.” He bit. He had really told himself to calm down, but god he hated seeing her flirt with someone who wasn’t him. She looked at him questioningly, and he crossed his arms, looking down at her.

“I’m sorry, Tora. I guess I was. It turns out I was talking to an old friend of yours. What are the odds? I didn’t think I’d find anyone who knew you!” She smiled, seeming absolutely delighted to have been talking with this fucker, which pissed him off even more, but a little curiosity got the better of him and he turned to face the person she was talking to.

Blue hair. A narrow face. A flash of golden eyes beneath dark brows, an ace tattooed on his hand, the head of a dragon peeking out of his partially opened black shirt. His lips curved into a devious smile, absolutely relishing the look on Tora’s shocked face.

“It’s been a long time, bro.” His voice had a hint of laughter to it, and he leaned against the bar, swirling a deep blue drink in his cup, that devious smile stuck on his face.

Tora almost fell over onto Poppy for a moment in shock, feeling like he was seeing a ghost, fighting as hard as he could to keep his composure together, before his lips formed the name in question,

“Goliath?”


	31. We’re Fucked

31

“Goliath?”

Tora had never wanted to simultaneously beat the shit out of and hug someone all at the same time. After all this time and he couldn’t be bothered to say a goddam thing? To let him know he was alive? Especially after his last phone call. 

“It’s been a long time.” Goliath grinned easily, and Tora knew that smug ass smile of his—it was so easy for him to just dip and out people’s lives like that. He had always been a selfish son of a bitch.

“Not long enough.” Tora growled, taking a step toward him. Goliath’s gaze hardened, and he said,

“Poppy was just inviting me to have lunch with the two of ya tomorrow in order for us to catch up. It’s so nice to see that your taste in women has changed.” 

Tora shot a lethal look over his shoulder at Poppy, who shrank back in intimidation. Damn it, Poppy. What have you done?

“I don’t see any reason to catch up. I know enough about you to last me a lifetime.” Tora growled. Goliath finished his drink, setting the glass firmly on the table and rising to his feet to get in Tora’s face.

“I believe it was Poppy who gave me the invitation in the first place. If you don’t want to join, that’s fine.” He grinned, then stepped closer to whisper in his ear, “I personally think she is beautiful, supple, and my god what it would be like just to touch that sweet little body of hers.”

“I kicked ya ass as a kid, and I’ll do it again now if ya ever talk about her like that again.” Tora warned, voice low.

“We’ll see.” Goliath grinned, leaning around Tora to give Poppy his business card which she eagerly took and entered into her phone.

“I’ll be going now.” Goliath grinned sweetly at Poppy. “Text me what you want for tomorrow and from where, and I’ll meet you there.”

Poppy waved as Goliath shouldered past Tora with one last smirk and a wave over his shoulder as he sauntered easily out of the bar. Tora put his hands on his hips, looking up at the sky. He turned back around to see Poppy still looking down at her phone and grinning like a fool. She looked up, met Tora’s gaze, and her smile immediately disappeared. She shifted uncomfortably, touching her hair, and then hissed,

“What?”

“You tell me.” Tora crossed his arms arching his eyebrow. “You seemed pretty comfortable with Goliath.”

Poppy grinned, and then suggested,

“Tora—are you jealous?”

Tora’s eyes widened and he shifted uncomfortably grumbling a few nonsensical words before finally settling on,

“You can’t trust him, Poppy. He’s a selfish bastard.”

“How do you know that? He may have changed over the last few years. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, right?” Poppy pressed. He could tell that she really wanted him to reconnect with Goliath, but she didn’t know him like Tora did.

“He hasn’t. He’s been the same since he was a kid. People don’t just change like that.” Tora told her.

“Yeah, but how would you know? I mean, you changed, and you never know if—“

“I think I would know my own goddamn brother!” He spat out of frustration. Poppy leaned back in shock at his outburst. He had never really raised his voice at her, so she knew she had definitely overstepped her bounds here. This was a hot button issue for him, and she would need to tread carefully.

“I—I’m sorry, Tora. I didn’t know.” She sighed.

“Just—Poppy. I’m just asking ya to be careful. I’m never gonna tell ya who to see and who not to see, but if I had my way, he would’ve stayed dead to both you and me.” Tora told her. Poppy raised her eyebrows, shocked at him for saying that about his own brother.

“If you wanna go meet him for lunch, I’ll go with ya, but ya can’t ask me to be nice to him. I don’t want to rehash things. I have no interest in bringing him back into my life, and I don’t want to forgive him for what he did.” He told her. Poppy nodded. He had set some pretty clear boundaries and expectations with her, and Poppy could tell that it wouldn’t do any good to ask him to reconsider.

“Okay.” Poppy conceded. “No lunch tomorrow.”

She touched his arm firmly, trying to calm him down a little.

“Hey, look at me.” Poppy told him. Reluctantly, he turned his angry gaze to her, and she could tell he was really trying to hold that explosion of anger in. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t know. I won’t bring him up again.”

The anger in his gaze remained for only about a minute more, before he visibly relaxed, looking down and away from her, before finally saying,

“It’s okay. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Sounds good.” Poppy smiled, and she reached out to him, pulling him down by his shirt collar and pressing her lips to his before taking his hand. He guided her out of the bar, opened the door for her, as she slid into the car. He closed the door, tapping the hood.

Poppy was just looking down at her phone when she heard a loud SLAM against the side of the car. She jumped, looking up and saw Tora pressed up against the side of the car, hands behind his back as several SWAT members pushed him to the ground, forcing his hands behind his back. She saw him grimace against the ground, as she tried to get out of the car, but found a policeman slamming the door shut so she couldn’t exit the vehicle.

“No.” Poppy mumbled, fumbling for her phone. “No, no, no, no.”

Her eyes flicked to the bar door, where she saw the back door woman pointing at Tora and nodding as the SWAT team stormed the building. The woman then recognized Poppy in the car, pointing to her too.

The silence of the car was broken by a the door being yanked open, the sound of shouting, scuffling feet, and running as Poppy was jerked out of the car and thrown to the ground, her hands behind her back as they cuffed her as well. She locked eyes with Tora, telling herself not to cry and not to panic and Tora looked over at her sympathetically, knowing how scared she must be. 

Poppy slid the mask of indifference into place, and she allowed her thoughts to wander, trying to keep her mind off of the scenario. As her thoughts wandered, so did her eyes, and she caught sight of a blue sports car. Goliath sat behind the steering wheel, his eyes locked on Poppy and hers locked on his. He knocked his knuckles against the side of the car, a nervous habit, she could tell. She saw a strange fleeting emotion run across his face, an odd yearning pass through his eyes. Then, he looked away from her and drove off.

Poppy was hauled up, and she and Tora were led to the back of a SWAT van and transported off of the premises.

***

Poppy sat alone in the cold interrogation room. Her hands were cuffed to the white table, two way glass on the wall, camera in the corners to record and another two chairs in front of her at the table. It was exactly what you would see in any CSI or detective type show.

The door clicked open and two men made their way into the room. One of them, carrying two styrofoam cups, the other carrying a clipboard and a manila folder. The first man was younger. Poppy thought he might be a trainee. He had red hair, pale skin, and wore a gray suit and pressed white shirt. The older of the two looked a lot more seasoned—bald on top with graying hair around the sides of his head, he looked down through bifocals, reading Poppy’s file, his oversized navy blue suit loosely fitted to his body.

Both of the men sat down, the red haired man, putting the cups down in front of Poppy. The older gentleman unlocked Poppy’s cuffs, her hands freed.

“Poppylan Wilkes.” The older man read through her file. It was at this moment that it hit Poppy that she was fucked—that Vincent would know they were arrested and would figure out why. That thought alone ate at her insides making her feel sick. “I’m Detective Langford; this is Detective Parks.”

Poppy nodded.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Langford, the older man, asked.

Poppy shook her head. The older gentleman nodded.

“Does the name Aviation Fine Wines sound familiar?” He asked her.

“Yes. They were one of the suppliers on the list that was provided to me, which I, in turn, provided to my doormen.” She explained. Parks wrote something down on the sheet.

“And what exactly were they supplying?” Langford pressed.

“By the name, I would assume fine wine.” Poppy suggested. Langford nodded, Parks smirking.

“You mentioned that the list was provided to you. Who provided it?” Langford asked. 

“Mizuki Yamamoto, the designer I worked with. She helped plan the opening—said she had a lot of connections to provide to us.” Poppy explained, deliberately leaving Tanaka out of the picture.

“I understand you also provided the door woman, Mary Perkins, a list of people who were allowed to enter the premises.” Langford pressed.

“I did.” Poppy agreed.

“Can you recall who was on that list?” Langford asked. “Any names you remember adding?”

“Off the top of my head I can recall Ramsey and Tora, both of whom I hired to help move the products inside. And—“

“What can you tell me about Tora and Ramsey?” Langford interrupted her.

“Tora is my boyfriend. Ramsey one of my best friends. Both part of the Balthuman Organization. Both screened before being allowed to enter the premises. Both of whom I trust with my life.” Poppy confidently stated.

“And their criminal history?” Langford pressed.

“Excuse me?” 

“What can you tell me about their criminal history?”

“I know both have had run ins with the law for various reasons—most attributed to assault.”

Langford nodded, Parks scribbled down information.

“How are Tora and Ramsey connected for Aviation Fine Wines?” Langford asked.

“They’re not. I already told you: I hired them myself to help me move products.” Poppy clarified, feeling a little impatient.

“Do either of them have a history with drug trafficking as far as you know?” Langford pressed.

“You tell me. I can see their file in front of you. Do they?” Poppy pushed back. Langford smiled easily at her fiery nature.

“What about you then?” Langford asked.

“What about me?”

“I see here you have a clean record. How did you get mixed up with someone with several charges for assault, robbery, drug trafficking?” 

“I’m a firm believer that a person’s past doesn’t define who he is.”

“And if I told you these were more current charges?”

“He’s never lied to me.”

“But he’s never told you the full truth either, has he?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your boy ratted on you. Said you were involved in all of the drug trafficking. Said it was your idea to move the drugs.”

Poppy paused for a moment, feeling a fleeting sense of panic and betrayal. She told herself to calm down, then reminded herself that part of the interrogation process was mind games. She knew Tora wasn’t the type to do that to her.

“And where did he say that I got those drugs from?”

“Said you stole them.”

“Alone?”

“That’s what he said.”

Wrong. Poppy knew that there was no way she could accomplish that all by herself. It would take a team of people to steal from Balthuman.

“Of course he said the two of you worked together to do this.” Langford pressed. 

Wrong again.

“Well, that’s a shame. I’m sorry to inform you that he’s mistaken.” Poppy coolly responded.

“So then how did the drugs end up in the basement of the establishment that YOU helped start up, moved in by YOUR boyfriend, granted access by YOUR list?” Langford leaned back in his chair. Poppy could tell this was not looking good for her. He was right—she was the key to getting the drugs there in the first place. Why not suspect her?

“I did my job. I was provided a list of products, and I supplied movers.” Poppy crossed her arms. Langford nodded, and Parks scribbled again. “We are going to leave you alone to reflect for a while. Maybe you’ll be able to tell us the truth or at least something more when we get back.”

At that, they headed out the door leaving Poppy alone in the room. She put her head down onto the table, closing her eyes.

*****

By the time they came back, it had been nearly two hours that Poppy had been locked in the room.

“You’re free to go.” Langford said, standing in front of the door, holding out a business card. “If you think of anything that might be helpful to us, give us a call.”

Poppy nodded, taking the card, looking down at her feet as she made her way to the lobby. She looked up to see Tora leaning against the wall near the front desk, waiting for her, hands in his pockets. 

Poppy collected her belongings from the front desk, and when she turned around, she ran right into Tora who wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, saying,

“Let’s go.”

She and Tora headed out the front door, both switching their phones on and both receiving the ping of a text message.

Vincent.

“Aw for fuck’s sake.” Poppy violently sighed. Tora glanced over at her in surprise, seeing Poppy squeeze her eyes shut, not wanting to open the message. Tora looked at the message, and then put the phone back into his pocket.

“We have to go meet Vincent.” He told her.

“Can’t wait.” Poppy sarcastically remarked. What a fucking day.

****

Poppy and Tora sat in the two seats in front of Vincent’s desk—Poppy looking down at her hands in her lap, Tora looking at Vincent passively, waiting for him to rip into the two of them. They were both exhausted, and they both knew they were fucked. It was like watching the executioner sharpen his blade while you were forced to sit on your knees waiting for him.

“I understand you got into a little scrape with the police.” Vincent’s voice was incredibly strained. Tora knew he wanted to lash out at them—to scream and strike them, but for some reason, he was choosing to remain restrained. “Anyone want to tell me why?”

Tora was ready with an answer, but oddly, Poppy was the one that spoke,

“There was drugs in one of the shipments—Aviation Fine Wines. I asked Tora to help me haul in the products since he was off for the night. That implicated him in the process.”

Tora looked over at her in shock, seeing a side of Poppy he wasn’t used to seeing—a tired, fed up Poppy who just seemed to not give a fuck what happened to her.

“Who the fuck is Aviation Fine Wines, Poppy?” Vincent seethed, putting his hands on the arms of her chair and leaning into her face. Poppy looked straight in Vincent’s eyes, sitting up ramrod straight, dangerously close to his face, and almost screaming back,

“Ask Mizuki fucking Yamamoto.”

Vincent’s eyes widened in shock, and Tora’s hands gripped the arms of the seat he was sitting in, nerves nearly wrecking him. At first, Vincent looked furious, but Poppy was not backing down. She continued to stare at him. Suddenly, he backed away from her, rubbing his eyes and laughing heartily. She leaned back in her chair, shoulders tense as he continued to laugh, and Poppy felt like he had finally cracked. 

He took another breath, heading over to his desk to wipe the tears from his eyes, before coming back around, leaning on his desk directly in front of Poppy.

“Ask Mizuki fucking Yamamoto, she says.” He chuckled again. He looked away for a moment, and suddenly, rared back and backhanded Poppy across the face, knocking Poppy out of her chair. Vincent stalked toward her, picking her up by her hair, and lifting her off of the ground by her dress as she held onto his wrists. Tora pushed the chair back furiously, moving toward the two of them and Vincent drew a switchblade from his pocket, putting it against Poppy’s throat, pressing the blade to where she bled.

Tora stopped, and Vincent shouted,

“I have had ENOUGH of the insubordination, god damn it! Tora, since you’ve shown you can’t keep your loyalties in check between your bitch and your boss, wait the fuck outside while we finish this conversation. Disobey me and I will make both of our lives insurmountably easier by driving this blade into her fucking neck and just ending her right now.”

Tora clenched his fists, at war with himself, clenching his teeth and debating if he could get to Vincent more quickly than he could move the blade to kill Poppy.

“Don’t test me, boy.” Vincent growled, pressing the blade into Poppy’s neck harder, the small line of blood becoming little trails. Poppy, to her credit, didn’t move or flinch. The two of them locked eyes, and he could see that she looked completely emotionless and drained. She nodded at him, and he begrudgingly headed out the door, closing it, and punching the wall with all of his might, putting his hands over his eyes with a loud,

“FUCK!”

And sliding down to the floor.

Vincent hurled Poppy onto the couch, where she scrambled into a seated position to face him.

“You see what you made me do?” He seethed. “Hurting women is completely against my philosophy, but you are just so fucking INFURIATING! You don’t listen! You don’t learn!”

Vincent paced back and forth, turning to her to scream,

“I have given you everything; an honorable initiation, a good job. Hell, I’ve even let you work together with your god damned boyfriend, and you have the fucking gall to throw all of that in my face by getting yourself AND your boyfriend arrested and putting a microscope on this fucking organization! God damn it, Poppy!”

Vincent hurled one of his statues across the room, shattering it against the floor as he raged on against Poppy. 

“Mizuki Yamamoto was the one who gave me the list of vendors. I simply gave them to the doormen.” Poppy told him.

“So you didn’t think to fucking cross check the list? Make sure that everyone on the list had a good reputation?” He seethed.

“No, sir. You hired Mizuki. You told me she was reputable and good at her job. I trusted your opinion and followed your directions to trust her.” Poppy bit back, cynicism lacing through her voice.

“You stupid little—“ Vincent raised his hand again, and Poppy sat forward, turning her eyes up to his.

“I didn’t know she would invite a company who would bring drugs into the picture. I assumed this was an amicable relationship. I’m sorry, Mr. Balthuman. I didn’t realize the relationship between the two organizations was still strained enough that she would do something like that.” Poppy explained. Vincent lowered his hand, nodding at her, shoulders relaxing a little more, and Poppy realized with shame just how easy lying had come to her. Who the fuck even was she at this point?

“Very well.” Vincent sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I will have to keep a closer eye on Yamamoto now that I see the game he’s playing. You, in turn, will work to get that club reopened.”

Poppy nodded.

“You’re dismissed.” Vincent mumbled, heading back to his desk, sitting, picking up his pen, and vigorously writing.

***

The door swung open and out walked a drained Poppy. She didn’t even turn to look over her shoulder at Tora; she just kept walking.

“Poppy, wait.” Tora called. She closed her eyes and stopped, turning to look at Tora, exhausted eyes glancing up into concerned eyes. She said nothing, waiting for him to say something—anything. Nothing. He stood helplessly, unsure of what he should do to say; if he should apologize; should he hold her or give her space?

After standing for just long enough for things to become uncomfortable, she turned back around, heading for Tora’s car. He moved to open her door for her, and she put her hand up to stop him, opening the door herself. She slid in, and he got into the car, the two of them driving back to the hotel in silence.

***

Tora turned the engine off and sat staring at his hands. He desperately wanted to get inside her mind, to ask her what was wrong; had he done something wrong? Was she just tired? What the fuck was happening right now?

“I—need some space.” Poppy told him, looking straight ahead. Tora glanced over at her, the mark on her face where Vincent had struck her turning a violent shade of red and purple.

“What does that mean?” Tora asked. He had heard that before: I need space. 

His mind filled in all of the blanks that she wasn’t saying: You’re suffocating me. I don’t want to be around you. I don’t want to be with you. You’re too much for me. This is all too much for me. What was I thinking?

“It means that for tonight, I just want to be on my own. I’ll come back to the room, but for now. Please. Just let me be alone.” She told him. His heart sank, listening to her push him away like that, but he knew she had been through a long day. She needed to blow off some steam, and he had to be content with letting her go and do that—with respecting her wishes no matter how much he wanted to wrap his arms around her and force her to stay with him and talk to him.

“Okay.” He could barely swallow the thought of her going off without him to god knows where, and she must’ve sensed that because she turned to look at him and forced a smile, saying,

“I’ll be at Ice Bar, Tora. I’m not going far.”

He sighed with relief inwardly and nodded at her.

“Well then.” He said, opening the car door, looking over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

Poppy nodded, and he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and walk away from her.

***

Poppy sat at the bar, staring at the bar top in front of her, imagining the blood spreading across the top. She squeezed her eyes shut, and took a deep breath in.

“It never really goes away, does it?” She heard a familiar voice asked. She glanced over to the seat next to her where Goliath sat, swirling a deep blue drink in his cup. She looked away from him and took her shot, motioning to the bartender to give her another.

By this point, she was six shots deep and feeling a pleasant, warm little buzz.

“What do you want?” She mumbled, not wanting to look at him. He turned to face her, intense golden eyes staring at her.

“Your time.” He replied. She scoffed, looking over at him, knowing good and well he was trying to flirt with her.

“I don’t have the time to give you.” She told him, taking her seventh shot. His mouth curved into a smile, hearing her say that, and watching the bartender set a cherry vodka sour in front of her. She put the straw to her lips and drank.

“I’m thinking this is the first time you’ve ever had a run in with the law.” He told her, a hint of humor in his tone.

“Wow. What an astute observation.” Poppy told him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She finished her drink, slamming the glass down, and pushed away from the bar, heading toward the dance floor. She almost made it there before she felt Goliath’s hand close around her wrist and pull her toward him. At this point, she reached back, aiming a vicious slap across his face and growled,

“I am sick and tired of being manhandled!”

He stumbled backward, holding his face. He strode forward, taking a hard look at her, fury alighting his face until a moment of recognition hit him. He grabbed her chin, turning her face to the side to see Vincent’s handiwork in full view.

“Who the fuck did this to you?” He seemed genuinely angry at seeing that, and she swatted his hand away.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s done.” She spat.

“Was it Tora?” He pushed, clearly furious at this point.

“No.” She said. “And I’m really tired of people accusing him of shit just because—“

“Then, it was Vincent.” Goliath cut her off, taking her by surprise. She stopped dead, not saying anything. “Yeah. Your silence is proof enough.”

“Why do you care?” Poppy pressed, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. He looked away from her, trying to find the words, clearly uncomfortable with the question.

“Because it’s you.” He finally said, and then turned, leaving her standing alone on the dance floor just like she had wanted.

***

Tora sat in the Ice Bar balcony watching Poppy from above. He had promised to leave her alone and give her space, but he still wanted to be there for her even if it was from afar.

He saw Goliath enter the bar, his body rigid with purpose as his eyes scanned the bar, and he watched with fury as they locked onto Poppy. Tora leaned forward putting his forearms on his knees as Goliath approached her, sliding into the seat beside her. To his pleasure, the exchange between the two of them was clearly icy.

He watched Poppy leave the bar, pursued by Goliath, who grabbed her wrist. He nearly vaulted over the damned railing of the balcony seeing him grab her like that, but stopped himself when she delivered a mean blow to the face. He watched Goliath reach up and grab her face, turning it to see the mark Vincent had left.

And something happened that he hadn’t expected. He saw Goliath’s shoulders lax, clearly feeling caught in some sort of emotion he didn’t want to be caught in, before he said one last thing to Poppy and left her standing in shock looking after him.

He leaned forward on the railing, watching her consider her options and wrap her mind around what had just happened, frozen for about a minute. She looked over her shoulder, considering the dance floor, and then retreated back to the bar, content to let the alcohol wipe her mind clean for the night.

Tora sighed. This was not going to be a pleasant night.


	32. One Drunken Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Goliath...

32  
Poppy stumbled out of Ice Bar and into the lobby, the entire world swirling a little as she struggled to stand up. She wandered aimlessly toward the front of the hotel, bursting out of the entrance and into the street.

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” She heard a voice say, and she smiled, her heavy lidded gaze turning toward the voice as a larger pair of hands caught her, keeping her upright.

“Aw, come on!” Poppy slurred in frustration seeing that stupid blue hair and that stupid smile and his stupid ace tattoo.

“Nice to see you too.” He told her. “Come on, now. Back inside.”

“You can’t—hic—tell me how to live my life!” Poppy complained, jabbing him hard in the chest with her finger.

“Yeah, I know. You’re a smart, independent lady.” Goliath rolled his eyes. Poppy gasped in horror.

“A—are you making fun of me?” She asked, and her eyes welled up with tears.

“Ah, come on, sweetheart. I wasn’t— Poppy stop crying! Seriously. Stop it!” He growled. Poppy’s lower lip trembled and she hiccuped again, whining,

“You’re so mean!”

“I have been called worse.” He told her, hauling her back inside and plopping her on the couch.

“So mean.” She murmured, grabbing a cushion off of the couch and hitting him with it. 

“Where’s your phone?” Goliath asked. Poppy stood up, staring him dead in the eyes, and whispering,

“Why? Do you want my number?”

“Why would I—no. I want to call Tora.” He told her, and her eyes widened.

“Nuh nuh nuh nuh— you call Tora, he will ground stomp you. Then, when he sees it’s from my phone, he will also curb stomp you.” Her expression serious. She grabbed his collar and shook him, saying,

“Don’t do it. You have to live on!”

“Okay, okay. Let go.” He tried to assuage her, attempting to peel her hands off of his collar. Suddenly she froze, and he leaned back, looking down at her, a little worried about why she might be stopping, and even more freaked out to see her staring straight into his eyes.

“Oh wow.” She grinned lazily. “Your eyes are the same as Tora’s. They’re so—so—hic—beautiful. Like—like two beautiful burning suns in a clear white sky.”

Goliath found himself looking down into her little doe eyes as she smiled up at him, and before he could help himself, he reached up, gently touching her face, mesmerized by her for a moment, feeling the softness of her skin, the dewy glow of her face, despite the dark circles under her eyes. She really was beautiful. And just as quickly as it had started, he snapped himself out of it, pulling his hand away from her face like his hand had been burned, and snatching her hands away from his shirt.

“Get a hold of yourself, Poppy.” He told her firmly, when really, he realized, he should be saying that to himself. Poppy stumbled backward, sensing that iciness from his voice that she was so familiar with in Tora from before.

“What IS it with the two of you?” She slurred, angrily looking him up and down. He cocked his head in question at her. “‘S like one minute, you’re being so nice, and everything is good, and the next you’re pushing people away.”

Goliath put his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet.

“I just don’t get it.” She turned around, flopping over onto one of the sofas in the lobby seating area, pulling her phone out, swaying back and forth. Goliath waited for her to unlock her phone, then reached down underneath the phone, giving it a hard tap. It flew up into the air, spinning sideways, and he caught it, flipping through the contacts for Tora’s number, dialing it.

“How did you? Wait? Who are you calling? Is it Tora? It’s Tora, isn’t it? Oooohhhhh you’re gonna be in troubleeeee!!!” She tsked at him. The phone rang twice before he answered.

“Better come get ya girl.” Goliath told him. 

“Already here.” He heard a voice behind him. He took the phone away from his ear and turned around to find Tora standing toe to toe with him. Goliath figured he shouldn’t be surprised that Tora would have been watching her. He had been that way since they were kids, always watching out for the younger kids, helping them out when they got into scrapes, and now that he had someone that he loved, he was sure that Tora was working overtime to keep an eye on her.

Goliath turned away from Tora, holding Poppy’s phone out to her, which she snatched indignantly from his hand.

“Trouble just seems to keep popping up wherever you are.” Tora growled, crossing his arms, glancing over at Poppy, who rolled her eyes dismissively, saying,

“I’m NOT in trouble. I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, you ARE trouble.” Goliath fired back.

“And for the second time today, I find ya with Poppy alone. Care to tell me how ya keep showing up to all the places she happens to be?” Tora pushed.

“I don’t owe you any explanation.” Goliath sneered. “If I want to be where she is, I will be. She’s free to leave as she pleases if she doesn’t like me being around her.”

Tora glared at Goliath, who refused to back down, and Poppy hiccuped again behind the two of them, before she said,

“You know. These floors are too nice and white and sparkly to deserve anyone’s blood to be splattered on them.”

Tora and Goliath turned to see her staring down at the floor with purpose. She dropped down to her knees, touching the smooth marble floor and sighed,

“I’m so sorry, floor. You did not deserve my blood on you. You are a nice floor. A good floor. Full of helpful support for all of our feets to walk on, and how we disgrace you with our muck!”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Tora mumbled, putting his hand over his eyes as Goliath snorted at the sight of her apologizing to the floor.

“Come on, Poppy.” Tora sighed, pulling her up by her arm.

“Aw, whyyyy? I need to make my amends to the god of the floors.” She whined.

“To the—what?” He looked at her, lips trying not to curve into a smile.

“The floor god! Floordonis, of course!” She threw her hand up in the air. “How do you not know him?”

“Uh—sorry. Mythical made up gods aren’t my strong suit.” He half heartedly apologized. Poppy stopped, yanking her arm out of his grasp and jabbing a finger into his chest, saying,

“How dare you call him made up!”

“Will you stop poking people!” Tora rubbed his chest, and she continued to poke him until he cried out,

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.” He rolled his eyes, guiding her to the elevator and helping her inside of it.

Goliath watched from the seating area, his smile long replaced with an unsettled frown. He fumbled through his pockets for his wallet, pulling it out and seeing a picture of the Ares Street Kingz in front of that stupid white van, Tora in the background leaning down to talk to a young girl who seemed to be crying. He ran his thumb over the girl in picture, before flipping it up to another picture—this one, more recent:

Poppy was standing out in the middle of a sidewalk, hair pulled back into a neat updo, fastened by a silver rose type hairpin with glittering stones on it, the black collar of her pink button up shirt leaving just enough cleavage for the imagination, tucked into a black pencil skirt. Her face looked so at ease, but determined. He always wondered what she was doing or thinking in that picture, where the orangish sunset kissed her skin a golden color and she looked directly into the camera without seeing the photographer.

And then, the first time he saw her in person at Vice, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. How long had it been since they had seen each other? Ten years? Fifteen? She wouldn’t even remember him, but he remembered her. 

He sat down, putting his head in his hands.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He chastised himself. He told himself he was only going to step out of the shadows long enough to free her from Balthuman, and then he would get out of her life. After all, that was why he had hired Akuma to deal with her personally and deal with this situation, but when the opportunity arose, and he could blend into a crowd of people just to see her in person? 

It was too tempting to resist, so he went. He noticed her immediately, approaching her at the bar with ease, complimenting her and her work. After she all but dismissed him, he mentioned Tora, and he knew he had her until Tora took her away from him.

And it had all felt worth it...until he ended up watching helplessly as she was arrested for a plan that wasn’t supposed to implicate her in the first place. He hated that he was the reason she drank herself silly, that he had hurt her or scared her because his stupid plan hadn’t panned out like it was supposed to. And he hated even more that she didn’t even remember that he existed.

“Just get the job done and get out of her life.” He told himself with a sigh, and he got himself back on his feet, heading out the hotel door and into the busy night crowd.

****

“Poppy, you need to lie down and sleep the alcohol off or eat something.” Tora told her, but she was already stripping her clothes off in front of him.

“Nah. Imma take a shower.” She grinned lazily, pulling off the rest her clothes.

“That’s not a good idea. What if ya slip and fall and knock ya self unconscious? You could drown!” He pressed, crossing his arms. Poppy snorted at that and guffawed,

“Well, that was a slippery slope—no pun intended—okay, maybe pun intended. And anyway,”

She stumbled over to him stark naked, took off his belt, unbuttoned, and unzipped his pants, yanking them down.

“If ya can’t beat em, join em, amirite?” She jabbed him with her elbow, trying and failing to wink simultaneously.

“That’s a horrible point, but in this case, I guess I have no choice.” He sighed.

“You’re either an activist or an inactivist. I want to stop this!” Poppy said sagely.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Tora asked, obviously confused.

“‘Kay, so you’ve never seen ‘The Cove.’” Poppy grumbled. Tora walked behind her, catching her as she stumbled her way into the shower, tripping over the side of the tub, and he caught her easily, lifting her in, and stepping in behind her.

“Wow it feels good to wash off the yuck of the day, and the smell of that stale interrogation room.” She leaned against the wall, body sliding off to the side as Tora steadied her. She closed her eyes for a moment, beginning to drift off and Tora took her wrists, saying,

“Oh, no you don’t.”

Her eyes snapped open, an annoyed expression on her face, as she turned to face him, annoyed with him.

“You—you!” She marched at him, prodding his chest. He looked down at her, waiting for her to continue, a little annoyed again by the chest prodding.

“Why do you have to be so attractive, damn it!” She whined, pursing her lips in anger. Tora smiled at her, helping her wet her hair before pouring soap into her head and lathering it. His smile turned into a full on thousand megawatt smile when she looked over her shoulder, pouting at him, and he laughed, rinsing her head.

“Alright, then, let’s finish washing up and get you to bed.” He told her.

“Yes.” She suggestively wriggled her eyebrows. “Bed.”

“Poppy, as much as I love your body and don’t mind a having sex with a little buzz, you’re fucking wasted.” He told her, helping her out of the shower and wrapping her in a towel, as she stumbled toward the dresser to get her clothes on and then flopped face first on the bed, crawling, butt up in the air toward the pillows.

Tora threw on a pair of sweatpants and joined her, flipping off the light.

“Since I’ve got full on honest Poppy right now, I want to ask about Goliath.” He told her, rolling onto his side to face her.

“Aw, that asshole? What do you want to know about him?” Poppy sneered, her eyelids fluttering, fighting sleep.

“Do you—know him?” He asked, unsure of her response.

“I know he’s a damned genie that keeps popping up wherever I am to annoy me.” She grumbled.

“But—you’ve never met him before today?” He pressed.

“Nope. I would remember his stupid blue hair.” Poppy griped. Tora nodded, feeling like they seemed so comfortable around each other when they talked. He hated seeing her touch his face and compare their eyes the way she did, drunk or not. Why the fuck did he have to come back anyway? He was nothing but trouble.

“Tora?” She mumbled. 

“Hmm?” He responded.

“You don’t have to worry about him.” She said, snuggling closer to him. “I love you, and even if he is beautiful, he’s no you, and he never will be.”

“Am I beautiful too?” Tora teased.

“You’re a Greek God. Of course you’re beautiful.” Poppy mumbled.

“Like Floordonis?” Tora bit back a giggle. Poppy’s head popped up and she growled,

“For your information, Floordonis is a demigod, and you are a beautiful, full on, golden glowing Greek god.” She smiled, tapping his nose with her finger. He laughed, taking her hand and holding it in his, falling into the bliss of sleep together.

***

Tora’s eyes fluttered open, and he found himself clutching the blankets alone. He rolled over, putting his hand over his eyes as the room came into focus. Poppy was sitting on the edge of the bed quietly putting her heels on, dressed in her business attire.

“Morning.” Tora croaked, and Poppy jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Oh, hey.” She said, over her shoulder, more than a little embarrassed about her behavior from the night before.

“Where ya going?” He sat up in bed as she stood, smoothing her outfit out.

“Vice. I’m uh—going to try to smooth things over and see what we can do to get it up and running again if Tanaka will have me.” She explained.

“Were you just going to slip out without saying anything?” Tora asked. Poppy nodded, fidgeting with her fingers. He pulled the blankets back and pulled her into his arms, kissing her on the head and saying,

“Poppy, you’re not the first person to say stuff when you’re drunk and you won’t be the last. It’s okay. Let me get dressed, and let’s go together.”

Poppy buried her face in his chest and nodded.

***

Tanaka sat across the bar from Poppy, a tense silence between the two of them.

“I’m sorry this happened, Mr. Tanaka.” Poppy told him gently. He looked over his thick glasses at her, meeting her eyes. And then sighing.

“Where did the drugs come from?” He asked gently. Poppy bit her lip, unsure of how to answer.

“The police say it’s from a well known crime syndicate in the area. Your bar just happened to be a guise for their next hit.” Tora answered for her. This was all true, and Poppy hadn’t had to lie to him. Tanaka nodded, taking the information in. He folded his hands nervously, closing his eyes, and then asking,

“Am—am I ruined?”

Poppy’s heart sank seeing the hurt in his face. He had put all of his hopes into her hands blindly, and she had failed him. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on his, and saying,

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

She smiled, trying to cheer him up, and his mouth curved into a pleasant grin.

“Now, let’s talk about the reopening. This time, I will cross reference all of the suppliers to make sure they are reputable now that we know what’s out there.” She told him. “In the meantime, we are going to throw a huge reopening party, and you’ll get all the recognition you deserve for all of your hard work.”

Tora loved watching her work, seeing her put their fears at ease because she really cared about them, not because she wanted to manipulate them. It was such a refreshing change of pace to know that there was a light in his life, and it was her.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out, looking at it. He rolled his eyes at seeing a private number pop up on the screen. He stepped away from conversation to take the call, hearing Akuma’s voice say,

“Yamamoto and Balthuman have split. I kindly suggest getting out of that bar while you still can.”

Tora looked hastily over his shoulder, stalking over to the window and glancing out. Three black SUVs sat outside the bar, and he hung up, moving quickly.

“Poppy. We need to leave. Now.” He told her abruptly.

“Why? What’s wrong?” She asked as she was ushered off of the bar stool and Tanaka followed nervously.

“Yamamoto and Balthuman have split. Yamamoto is here to claim his stake.” Tora explained. “Mr. Tanaka, they will ask to take full ownership of then bar, and even though they may be asking, it’s not a request. If ya want to live, let em take the bar.”

At that, Tanaka stopped in his tracks, watching Poppy and Tora go, the thunder of a door being kicked open and feet quickly moving into the building apparent. Tanaka turned back, heading to seal his fate with the Yamamoto clan, while Poppy and Tora headed for the service exit. 

Tora pushed Poppy against the wall as he drew his pistol. He knew outside of the door was a long alley, only two possible ways for people to come. He anticipated there might be two or three SUVs in the back, watching the exit just like Balthuman’s clan would do.

“Poppy, listen carefully. We are going to make a break for the car. We have to make it through the alley first.” He handed her a pistol, and she took it. “I’m going to check right, and you protect the left. The left is a dead end, so there won’t be anywhere for anyone to go or come. The right is the side that’s more open.”

She nodded, listening intently.

“Take down anyone you see. Don’t hesitate.” He told her. She nodded, and he threw open the door. She moved left, and Tora heard her fire off four shots, as he turned right, seeing a group of people outside the SUV, and taking each of them down cleanly.

“All clear.” Poppy said, and they moved down the alley together.

“Run.” He said. He took her hand, and they took off like a shot toward Tora’s car, slid in to the sound of gunshots behind them, and sped off. Poppy put her head down, avoiding the gunfire as she dialed Vincent’s number. He picked up after one ring, and she seethed,

“Yamamoto and his men stormed Vice and overtook the bar. They’re shooting at us now, but they’re currently in Vice, forcing Tanaka to sign.”

Vincent cursed over the phone, knowing good and well that bar was lost, and he slammed the phone down. Poppy glanced over at Tora, who was driving like a maniac, and grumbled,

“Well, that went well.”

Tora smirked, reaching over to hold her hand as Poppy sat back up, staring out the window just in time to see a blue sports car race by.


	33. Retrieving the Notebook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squishy, mushy, smutty, fluffy feels incoming.
> 
> ALSO: I have added a New Work slot for CCC one shots for MPL as well. These will stay a little truer to the comic itself and will be a lot less...dark...than this work. There’s a new prompt for us to write on every week.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25030714/chapters/60616840

Goliath sat at the conference table across from Tanaka. The doors of the room had been long closed and Mizuki Yamamoto and big boss Yamamoto himself sat on either side of Goliath, a full team of bodyguards standing in various positions around the room.

“Surprise.” Mizuki smiled, and a Tanaka’s gaze darkened.

“I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.” He told her bitterly. Mizuki laughed at that response, reaching into her bag and pulling out a red leather portfolio.

“Well, Mr. Tanaka. I’d say judging by the Balthuman Organization’s inability to provide you with a stable, reputable business that their part of the contract is considered null and void.” She sighed, sliding the portfolio across the table. She had meticulously gone through his contract with Balthuman and highlighted and underlined segments of the contract that had been violated by the drug bust. Tanaka put the contract down, and Goliath reached over, double checking the contract’s terms to make sure that Mizuki had indeed done her job, which she had.

“Weren’t you the one who provided Poppylan the list of distributors?” Tanaka asked, looking over his glasses at Mizuki. Her smile disappeared, replaced now with a sneer.

“I provided world class distributors, celebrity overhauls, and even social media influencers to cover the event. Do you really think I would go through all that effort just to watch it blow up in my face like that?” She asked, leaning forward, her long, inky black hair board straight, falling over her shoulders.

Tanaka wasn’t sure who to believe at this point. Both Poppy and Mizuki had a point.

“Mr. Tanaka,” Goliath gently began, “There’s no use in pointing fingers at this point. What’s done is done. Now, it’s more just about reopening and getting your business back on track. That’s all we want to help you do.”

Tanaka held Goliath’s stare for a moment, before sighing,

“What are the terms?”

***

Goliath dialed Akuma who picked up after one ring.

“The deal is done.” He murmured.

“Excellent. Now that Yamamoto now has a head start in the Goruden district, we can move on to more—personal ventures.” Akuma said. 

“Personal ventures.” Goliath repeated, knowing exactly what he meant. “I’ll take care of it.”

Goliath hung up the phone, pacing for a bit. The last thing he wanted to do was call Tora or involve Poppy, but in this case, he had no choice. He dialed Tora’s number and waited for an answer.

“It’s me. We need to meet. Now.”

***

Tora was not exactly happy with having to see Goliath again, and his mood soured even more at his obscene request that Poppy be in attendance. He paced the room, considering what the fuck he might need the two of them for, before Poppy put her hand on his arm. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” She pressed gently, holding his hand. 

“I don’t want you involved in this anymore than ya need to be.” He explained.

“Hey. I’m the one who agreed to do this. It was my choice.” She told him.

“Yeah, well ya didn’t have much of a fucking choice. It was either that or get hunted down and killed. What choice, Poppy?” He seethed. She bit her lip, nodding, knowing this frustration was coming from a place of love and concern.

“Okay, that’s fair.” She conceded. She put his hand to her cheek, turning and kissing his palm. “I’m sure he has a good reason for asking for me.”

“Well, he fucking better, or I’m taking him to the ground.” Tora snarled, yanking his hand away and pulling his hair back. Poppy nodded, pushing herself off of the bed, and they headed to the Ice Bar balcony, where Goliath sat alone.

“Let’s cut to the chase.” Goliath said. “Poppy, I understand you have my notebook.”

“I don’t.” Poppy said firmly.

“I believe you picked it up from the site where I got the shit kicked out of me, maybe purely by accident.” He explained. 

“I don’t—“

“Listen,” he cut her off, “you may have taken it to work with you. I want you to go and collect your things with Tora at night—find that notebook.”

“We’ve already combed the place. It’s not there.” Tora sighed.

“I think it is.” Goliath pressed a photograph on the table—a picture of Poppy’s office, and Poppy rummaging through he bag, the spine of a black notebook peeking out of her belongings.

“And I think Poppy has it in her personal belongings.” Goliath set down another photograph—a stack of Poppy’s materials from when she was tidying up, that same black notebook peeking out.

“Poppy, where are these materials?” Goliath asked, picking up the pictures. 

“My old apartment.” Poppy answered. “In my work bag.”

“Even better.” Goliath clapped his hands together. “Now we don’t have to worry about getting past a security system—not that it’s an issue, but more efficient.”

Tora glanced over at Poppy, who shrugged in return. All this time she really had the notebook, and she had no clue. 

“What’s the deal with this notebook anyway? Why do you need it?” Poppy asked.

“There’s a lot of—dirt on many of the gang leaders around here—dirt that police, investigators, and even newspapers have been vying for for years.” Goliath explained, looking off to the side.

“And how did you obtain it?” Poppy asked. Tora glanced over at Goliath, who shot Poppy a sharp glance.

“The source isn’t your concern.” His voice came off a lot harsher than he had intended. Poppy flinched a little, raising her eyebrows.

“Right then. Now that you’ve made that clear, I’ll head up to the room to grab my bag. Tora, I’ll meet you down here.” Poppy excused herself. Tora glanced her direction, watching her leave before returning his attention to Goliath.

“Well, that’s one way to shut her out.” Tora remarked, and Goliath sighed.

“I’m not used to trying to keep acquaintances.” He mumbled.

“Clearly.” Tora pointedly remarked. “There’s no reason for ya to keep her as an acquaintance anyway. So, just keep doing what ya doin.”

Goliath glared at him, sitting forward, putting his forearms on his knees,

“And why might that be?”

“Because there’s no way you could ever just be her friend.” Tora sharply explained. “Knowing you, the only thing ya give a shit about is yourself. You’ll only end up hurting her.”

Goliath said nothing, looking off to the side.

“Besides that,” Tora leaned forward, “I know ya enough to know that you just want to get in her pants. And the minute I catch ya doing anything to try to act on that, I will fucking crucify you.”

Goliath smirked at that comment, nodding, wiping his mouth with his hand in a nervous and agitated fashion. Tora leaned back casually, crossing his ankle over his knee, listening to the background music, looking down at the bar.

“And what if I said I didn’t just wanna get in her pants?” Goliath pressed softly, Tora’s attention turning sharply back to Goliath. “What if I told ya I actually give a shit about her?”

“Then I’d say you’re treading in dangerous waters.” Tora seethed. “Help her all ya want. Look out for her if that’s what ya feel like ya need to do. Hell, I don’t even give a shit if ya go down swinging for her, as long as you understand that you and she will never happen.”

“Why? Because ya think I’m not good enough for her?” Goliath pressed.

“No. Because she is mine.” Tora growled possessively. “Because I love her. And if ya try to get in the way of that, regardless of whether your intentions are pure or not, all bets are off. And believe me when I say, there’s nowhere you could go that I wouldn’t come for ya. And when I find ya, I will wipe every trace of you off of this earth.”

Goliath nodded, understanding perfectly well what he meant. But then again, he was always one to push the envelope.

“Tora,” Poppy touched his shoulder, “ready to go?”

Tora held eye contact with Goliath, saying,

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

And he stood up, turning and putting her arm around Poppy’s shoulder as they headed out.

***

“Wanna tell me what was going on between the two of you when I walked into Ice Bar?” Poppy asked as they pulled out of the hotel parking garage. Tora glanced over at her.

“Which part?” He asked coolly.

“How about the part I walked in on: ‘I will wipe every trace of you from this earth.’” She queried. He leaned his head on his hand, he simply stated,

“I said I’d kill him if he pursued you.”

“Pursued me?”

“If he tried to make ya his girl.”

Poppy felt overwhelmingly aroused hearing him be so protective of her this way.

“And what else was there?” She pressed.

“I told him if he tried to fuck ya, I’d crucify him.” He admitted.

“Crucifixion?” Poppy smiled deviously, “That’s brutal.”

Tora looked over at her, realizing she was making fun of him, and he grinned. Poppy’s hand moved to his thigh, and she looked out the window innocently, her hand wandering upward, gently stroking him. He jumped a little at the attention, not expecting it, before saying,

“If I knew I could just threaten people with death for trying to get in ya pants in order to get ya in my pants, I’d have done it a lot sooner.”

Poppy unleashed a low growl, unbuttoning his pants and reaching inside, taking a hold of him and stroking him more vigorously. They pulled up to a stoplight, and he looked over at her, watching her take her hand off of him, look him dead in the eye, lick her fingers suggestively, and return her hands to his now exceedingly hard erection, and he swore on everything that he nearly exploded inwardly. He leaned his head back, watching the light, but all he could focus on was the movement and feeling of her hand.

“Jesus Christ.” He seethed through his teeth. The light turned green, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Poppy lean down, wrapping her lips around him, and he nearly jerked the wheel. “Careful there, sweetheart. Go slow.”

And she did as he asked, her tongue tracing the length of him in slow, deliberate pulses.

For Tora, needless to say, the drive to Poppy’s apartment was a very pleasurable experience.

***

“I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve been home.” Poppy remarked, digging in her bag for her keys. Tora was finding it hard to focus on much more than Poppy’s ass at this point thanks to her shenanigans in the car.

“Mmhmm.” He responded, and she unlocked the door, the two of them heading inside. Poppy paused for a moment, taking everything in, looking around. So much had changed in her life since the last time she had left this apartment. Hell, the last time she was in this apartment, she wasn’t in a clan, and she didn’t quite have Tora. She was a lot more innocent then, and her apartment was a shrine to that part of her with cute little pillows and stuffed animals here and there; funny little sayings stenciled on the wall. She felt like the Poppy she was now would probably pack all of these things up and start over.

“Well,” Poppy cleared her throat, thoughts coming and going like a warm summer wind, “let me find the notebook.”

Tora watched Poppy head over to her desk, taking the brown bag that she had stored her things in before, flipping it open, and rummaging through the cutesy pink and yellow floral stationary, journals, and folders, stopping when she came to a black notebook. She pulled it out, waving it in her hand, and Tora approached her, taking it from her, noting her change in mood.

“So this is what everyone has been after all this time, huh?” He thought aloud.

“People have been looking for this?” Poppy remarked.

“Yeah. Everyone in the underground world has been on the hunt for it, but nobody knew about you until I saw ya coming out of the bushes in that shithole town. Goliath had left me messages earlier in the day asking for help, so I traced him to the spot that you happened to stumble on his stuff. I followed you, wanting to try to take it from you, but you had no idea, and I didn’t want to get you involved.

“I just assumed ya didn’t have it when I asked if you’d found anything else at your wreck site. And to be fair, you had no idea, and I wanted to keep it that way.”

Tora leaned against the kitchen counter, and Poppy listened intently.

“But then, someone started talking about ya. They heard that I was involved with ya and threatened to come after ya. After that, I made the decision to stay with ya until I was sure you were safe, and then I told myself I was going to get the hell out of your life.” He looked away from her, reminiscing on this memory. “The problem was, I just couldn’t stay away from ya no matter how hard I tried. I didn’t want to. And here we are.”

“And here we are.” Poppy repeated, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. Tora looked back at her, a soft smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, wanna grab anything before we head out?” He asked.

“I do.” Poppy said, pushing off of the wall. “But I was just thinking that you’ve had me on nearly every possible surface in our hotel room.”

“That’s true.” Tora agreed. Poppy looked around, motioning around the room as she said,

“There are an awful lot of surfaces in this apartment that we haven’t christened yet, and I don’t know the next time that we will be back. Think we could christen the whole apartment?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Tora moved forward, sliding his hands around her waist, grabbing her by her butt and pulling her closer. “Challenge accepted.”

***

Tora’s phone buzzed incessantly as Poppy slept beside him, effectively worn out from multiple christenings around the house. Finally, he sighed in frustration, getting out of bed and putting his pants on, grabbing the phone and heading out to the balcony.

He slid the green phone to the answer position and put the phone to his ear:

“Jesus Christ, Tora. I’ve been calling all night!” Goliath nearly yelled over the phone.

“Been busy.” Tora said, reaching into his pocket and lighting up a cigarette.

“Did you find it?” Goliath asked.

“Yep.” Tora answered.

“Good. That’s good news. I need it as soon as possible.” Goliath pressed.

“You’ll get it when we are done here.” Tora told him, blowing a plume of smoke out of his mouth, watching it swirl lazily in the night sky.

“Done here? What more do you need to do?” Goliath was frustrated. He wanted that notebook and he wanted it right then and there, and Tora’s lackadaisical attitude was about to push him over the edge.

“Do ya really want to know the answer to that question?” Tora’s mouth curved up into a satisfied grin, wanting him to know that he was taking Poppy, taking sheer pleasure in rubbing it in his fucking face.

“No.” Goliath pointedly remarked. “I don’t.”

“I’ll be back when I’m back.” Tora hung up the phone. He finished his cigarette, flicking the butt of the cigarette over the railing and heading back inside. He crawled gently back into the bed with Poppy, tenderly kissing her bare shoulder before lying next to her, looking at her face. She was so peaceful, her face relaxed, lips slightly parted as she slept. He reached up, running his hands through her hair, grazing her cheek with his hands, and Poppy hummed in appreciation, her lips curving into a gentle smile as her eyelids fluttered open, looking into his eyes.

“You okay?” She whispered, looking at him. He nodded, reaching out and taking her hand, gently playing with her fingers before bringing each of them up to kiss them.

“I—Uh. I have something for ya.” He told her. He reached deep into his pockets, hand closed. 

“You have a surprise for me?” Poppy teased.

“Yeah yeah. Just—close ya eyes.” He was nervous, fidgety. Poppy grinned. He had never been good at the sappy stuff and this was definitely in the category of sappy. Poppy did as she was told closing her eyes, feeling a cool, smooth metal slide over her finger.

Her eyes snapped open and she looked down at her finger.

“It’s—it’s not a lot, I know, but I didn’t want ya to have to wear that ring on your neck forever. And I told ya that I wanted this and you said you did too. Or I thought you did. Maybe you don’t. And if you don’t like it you don’t have to wear it. I won’t be offended or some shit. Or I mean I hope you want to, but—“

“It’s perfect.” She held her hand to her chest, and then held it out again to look at it. It was, what would technically be called, an anniversary band, and it boasted pave diamonds all the way around the band itself. When she studied the band from the side, intricate vinework laced with diamonds went around the circumference of the ring. 

“Not very much.” Poppy scoffed inwardly. 

“It’s everything.” She grinned, and even though the only illumination in the room was the silvery blue hue of the moon, Poppy could see him blush.

“The lady called it a promise ring.” He told her. “‘S supposed to be like a placeholder for the real thing for now.”

Poppy leaned forward, running her hands on his chest and kissed him hard.

“Thank you.” She said, and she unhooked the necklace from around her neck, removing the silver ring from the chain and handing it back to him. He took it, slipping it on his finger.

“Since I have this one instead.” She smiled, and he nodded.

“Want to head back?” He asked her. “Now that you’re awake.”

“Yeah.” She agreed. Tora felt like he could fly. She had made a commitment to him, and for him, that was everything. 

People had always been so content to just walk in and out of his life, and he knew she wouldn’t ever do that willingly, but now she wanted to show everyone else that she wouldn’t do that. That ring, for him, was also a warning to every other man that came into contact with her to back the fuck off, and he was pretty sure that was one of the main features that sealed the deal for him.

Notebook in hand, all that was left to do was free her from this organization, and then he could be content that she would be safe. This was the key to everything, and Tora knew that it meant the key to his potential freedom as well. For once, everything seemed to be working out the way it was supposed to.

But all good things must eventually come to a slow and bitter end.


	34. Pawns on a Chess Board

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New betrayal, who dis?

34  
Poppy put the notebook into Goliath’s hands, and for a moment, she could’ve sworn that she saw him visually sag with relief to have it back. He flipped through the pages, making sure it was indeed his notebook, and then set it on his lap.

“Excellent.” Goliath smiled. Poppy smiled back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and Goliath saw that halo of diamonds on her finger glint in the light, his eyes zeroing in on the ring. Tora’s mouth curved up into a satisfied smile before he looked away, surreptitiously glad to see his face fall.

“I see you’ve got some new ice on your finger.” Goliath cleared his throat. Poppy looked down at it, her face flushing, before she smiled,

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Not quite an engagement ring.” Goliath grumbled, looking away, and Tora shot him a poisonous glare.

“A promise ring.” She clarified. “Besides, if I were to wear a huge rock around these parts, I’m pretty sure my finger would end up getting cut off and the diamond pawned for drugs.”

Both Goliath and Tora looked at Poppy in shock at that statement, and she simply shrugged. Goliath briefly looked down at his phone, sending a text and a moment later, a quiet shadow appeared behind him. He reached up, handing the notebook to Akuma, who nodded in return, disappearing back into the shadows.

“What now?” Poppy asked.

“Now, we wait.” Goliath answered, lounging back in his chair, sipping on a dark blue drink. Tora glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Akuma, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It was a little too easy, a little too fast, a little too convenient. Nothing in his life had ever been this easy, and for things to just fall into place like that unnerved him.

“You okay?” Poppy asked, breaking him out of his rumination.

“Just—tired, I guess.” He smiled faintly at her.

“I can’t imagine why.” She purred, a devilish smile on her lips. As much as he wanted to give in to that temptation, he needed to investigate further.

“I’m—going to head out. There are a few things I need to check on.” Tora was well aware that he was being vague, but he didn’t want to scare Poppy.

“Okay. Why don’t I come with you?” Poppy smiled.

“Nah, sweetheart. You go ahead and sit this one out. I’ll meet ya in the room later tonight.” He smiled back, trying to reassure her. Poppy’s face fell. Something was wrong, and she knew it, but if he wanted to do this alone, there wasn’t much she could do besides nod and hope he came back in one piece.

Goliath wouldn’t look in Tora’s direction, but looked up after he kissed Poppy on the top of the head and left Ice Bar.

“He doesn’t trust Akuma.” Goliath told her.

“Who does, really?” Poppy asked pointedly. Goliath looked up at her sharply.

“I do. Particularly when I’m the one who is paying him to do a job.” Goliath growled. Poppy nodded, saying,

“Goliath, he’s a mercenary. His loyalties can be bought. If someone pays more than you, he’ll turn on you like a wild animal. There is no trust in paid relationships.”

Goliath had never really stopped to consider Akuma turning on him—mainly because he was so familiar with Akuma. He had hired him on plenty of occasions whether it meant saving his life or taking the life or lives of others for him. He had always come through for him, and he didn’t appreciate this seed of doubt that Poppy had planted in his head.

“Tell ya what. You and Tora believe what you believe, and I’ll believe what I do. He’s never failed me before.” Goliath explained, but Poppy could hear the trace of doubt in his voice. Looking at him now, arms crossed in frustration, he looked—almost like an indignant child. Poppy narrowed here eyes. Something seemed so familiar about him when he acted this way. It was a strange sensation, feeling like you’ve met someone before.

“When he does turn on you,” she said quietly, dismissing the feeling, “I hope to god you’ll be alive to hear me say, ‘I told you so.’” 

She nodded, getting up and leaving Goliath sitting with his own thoughts, knuckle to his lips considering Poppy’s last words.

***

Tora headed out into the dark of the night, immediately turning in to an alley with little to no light. He knew he would find him there, and he wasn’t wrong.

“Lost, little tiger?” He heard a voice call out on the darkness.

“Looking for you.” Tora responded, eyes darting around, trying to find him, but only really seeing his dim outline in the shadows.

“You want to know about the notebook—what I’m going to do with it.” Akuma whispered, close enough to Tora that he could feel his breath on the back of his neck. 

“This is a coveted item. There are several leaders who would pay handsomely for this, you know.” Akuma’s told him.

“But if you give it go them, you won’t be fulfilling your task with Goliath.” Tora pressed.

“I can assure you that what he’s paying me and what I’ll get for this notebook are two drastically different things. I’m almost certain I would be perfectly fine dropping the weight of the Balthuman Organization on your head with full force once Vincent finds out his favorite pet is a lying dog, and his precious tiger’s little bitch is in on the whole thing.” Tora knew Akuma well enough to know that he was grinning in the darkness, satisfied with the anger and frustration that Tora must be feeling at that moment.

“I had a feeling you would do this.” Tora sighed. “But is this really about the money?”

“Everything is about the money.” Akuma smoothly stated, and Tora couldn’t sense a hint of emotion in his voice.

“Would you ever really be content with this job being incomplete?” Tora asked. “Ya whole legacy is built on a foundation of trust and brutal completion. Wouldn’t ya say a mercenary is only as good as his reputation? Where would this little slip up leave you?”

“Who will be around to spread the rumors if I kill you and your lovely bride first?” Akuma seethed in the darkness.

“Goliath. I know the two of ya have a history together. He’s relied on you many times, and that shows in his stupid fuckin loyalty to a merc. Believe me when I tell ya, that when ya turn on him, he will take you down on his own, and when he finds out what you’ve done to Poppy, he will ruin you.” Tora warned, and Akuma remained silent for a moment, and for once, Tora wondered if someone might have actually broke through that ridiculously thick exterior of Akuma’s.

“Bravo, Tora. I see that being around me has helped you master to art of manipulation.” Akuma smiled.

“Don’t flatter yaself. I didn’t get to where I am now on my charms and good looks.” Tora grumbled. Akuma considered Tora’s words for a moment, and he stood, seemingly in shock.

“Here. Take it then.” Akuma hissed, and Tora saw the brief outline of the notebook in the dark. Warily, he took it, the notebook easily sliding into his hands without resistance, and for the second time in one night, he felt completely unsettled by how easily he had obtained the notebook.

“Akuma?” He called putting uncertainly into the darkness. No response. Akuma had moved onto greater pleasures.

***

Akuma moved through the shadows of the office easily, silently. His hands grazed the surface of the tiny statues and vases, admiring Vincent Balthuman’s taste in art.

He turned over his shoulder, heading toward his desk, being as careful as possible to avoid furniture and decor, fingers sliding over the pieces of an ornate chess board situated on a table closer to the back wall.

“You’d better have a good fucking reason for being in my office at this hour.” Vincent growled, the orange glow of a cigar lighting up a pair of angry, glinting eyes, the click of a revolver pointed straight at the back of Akuma’s head. Akuma smiled, perfectly aware that he wasn’t alone.

“We need to discuss your boy.” Akuma told him.

“I don’t discuss my men with people like you.” Vincent growled.

“Not even Tora?” Akuma hissed. He felt the gun waver against the back of his head and his lips curved into a devious smile. 

Check. 

Vincent was quiet for a moment, considering whether or not to pull the trigger, but he just couldn’t help himself.

“What about Tora?” He growled.

“Put the gun down and let’s talk.” Akuma’s voice was barely above a whisper. Vincent wavered a moment, deciding whether or not it was in his best interest to remove the gun, knowing full well what a monster Akuma was, especially when preying in the darkness. Besides that, he could have been lying about any information related to Tora, but then again, he might not be. Either way, he needed to know. He removed the gun from Akuma’s head, motioning to the seats in front of his desk.

Check.

Akuma moved slowly, a snake in the grass waiting to strike, seating himself gently before Vincent.

“You have five minutes to make this worth my time.” Vincent eyed him warily, setting the gun down on his desk, popping the lid off of the decanter of whiskey, sticking his cigar in his mouth, and pouring the whiskey into a single glass. He tapped the ash of the cigar into a crystal ash tray, the sickly sweet stench of smoke swirling around him like a strange fog, before placing it back into his mouth.

“All I need is one.” Akuma said. “Your boy has the notebook you’ve been looking for.”

Vincent nearly bit the cigar in two at hearing that.

Check.

“And your new little recruit Poppy is responsible for him keeping it from you.” Akuma went on. “In fact, you might remember Ms. Wilkes formerly worked for a publishing company. With the notebook in hand, she’s been getting together a hell of a story to bring you and many of the other clans down.”

Check.

Vincent sat forward, running his hands through his hair, feeling that boiling rage bubbling up inside of his body. Akuma sat forward, cocking his head oddly to the side.

Check.

“But this isn’t about Poppy.” Akuma seethed softly. “It’s about the fact that you’ve lost control of your boy, and he’s been good to you all these years. He needs to remember what you’re capable of. What you can do. That as easily as he can receive things, you can take them away.”

Check.

Vincent’s breath quickened, his fists closing into an angry fist as he glared up at Akuma.

Check.

“I’m listening.” He seethed. Akuma broke into a malevolent grin at the sound of those words.

Checkmate.

***

Tora entered the room quietly, thinking Poppy might be asleep, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Poppy emerge from the balcony, crawl onto the bed behind him, and put her head on his shoulders, rubbing his back.

Tora’s hands gripped the edges of the notebook, feeling absolutely on edge, his shoulders tense, and he put his head in his hands. 

Something is not right. 

Think, Tora.

Think.

Why give up the notebook so easily?

What’s the play?

“Talk to me.” Poppy whispered. Tora shook his head both in frustration and refusal. If he was wrong about this, he would worry her for nothing.

“I can’t—figure this out is all.” He told her truthfully.

“What? The notebook? Have you read it?” Poppy asked excitedly. 

“No, I haven’t.” His voice came off a lot stonier than he had expected. Poppy shrunk back a little, seeing that whatever she was doing wasn’t exactly helping.

“Tora, you don’t have to do this alone.” Poppy told him, laying her head against his back, but he tensed up, immediately standing, and sending Poppy toppling forward.

“Yes, I do.” He all but snarled at her. His frustration was slowly seeping into his emotions, threatening to take Poppy down with him. Poppy nodded, knowing good and well that he had shut the door on her, and the sooner she accepted that, the better.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re going through or what you’re feeling, but I understand the need to be alone. You must be feeling overwhelmed and angry right now carrying that burden on your own.” She told him, moving to the side of the bed to slip her shoes on. “I just hope that you know that no matter what path you take, I will always be there you, even if I can’t be a part of it with you. And I will always love you, whether you let me in enough to show you or not.”

She stood, putting her hands on his arms, which were crossed as he looked down at her. Poppy saw his emotions waver for a slight second. She leaned up to kiss him, but, thinking better of it, decided to take his hand instead, putting her face against his hand, and kissing it. She paused at the door, turning to look at him one more time to say,

“I love you, Tora.”

Before she shut the door and walked away, giving him the space he desperately needed.

No sooner had the door had clicked shut than Tora’s phone pinged with a text message. He growled in frustration, looking down at the screen.

Vincent.

He opened the text message and read:

“We have a new initiant tonight. Black tie. My driver will pick you up. Be outside the hotel by 8.”


	35. Blood In, Blood Out: The Second Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ROUGH CHAPTER AHEAD
> 
> The darkness has returned for the time being. Everyone take a deep, long breath in through the nose, and exhale through the mouth.

Tora was not in the mood to play nice with all of the rich fuckers that were going to be in the observation room tonight. He waited outside the hotel as instructed, a few minutes early, pulling out his phone to text Poppy:

Me: Initiation tonight. Welcome Center. The fancy kind.

Bobby: Yikes. Well, try to have a good time. Drink a few glasses of champagne...or red wine...for me, okay?

The ominous “or red wine” seemed to linger in the air, even though the words hadn’t been spoken aloud. A flash of blood splattering over Poppy’s body sent a shiver up his spine.

Me: Yeah. I’ll do that.

A black SUV pulled up just as his phone buzzed with a final text from Poppy. Tora put his phone in his jacket pocket, and the passenger door opened, a man in a black on black suit stepping out, opening the door. He paused in surprise when he saw Vincent sitting in the back seat, knuckles to his lips in thought, before turning to look at Tora, his face going cold.

“And Vincent is in a shit mood. Fucking great.” Tora thought, sliding into the back seat as the door closed.

The two of them sat in an icy silence, both looking out the window of the SUV as they headed toward the Welcome Center.

“We haven’t spoken in a while.” Vincent’s voice was cold, distant. Tora made a noise of assent. 

“Anything you want to tell me?” Vincent asked, his voice soft, less of an accusation, more like he was genuinely trying to make conversation with Tora, and Tora felt like he was spiraling in the Twilight Zone. Vincent had never been one to make polite conversation with anyone. He had always been direct, manipulative, or even angry, but never calm and conversational. Tora felt a stab of anxiety.

“I asked Poppy to marry me.” He told Vincent, attempting to make conversation back. Vincent’s mouth set into a grim line, hearing Tora tell him this.

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Vincent asked, and Tora turned to look at him. “Your job can’t afford you any distractions. It’ll get you killed.”

“I’ll manage.” Tora didn’t want to get into this with Vincent. He knew the risks, and he was willing to take them.

“Then—I suppose congratulations are in order.” Vincent return his gaze back out the window, and Tora did the same.

“Thanks.” Tora grumbled.

“Just be sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.” Vincent sighed softly. “Because now, she’s collateral.”

Tora wanted to explode at him that he already knew. That he’d thought everything through and he didn’t need Daddy Vincent telling him all this shit. Instead, he opted for a simple,

“I know.”

And they rode the rest of the way in silence, the last attempt at conversation, effectively failing.

***

Tora entered the observation room and went straight to the bar, his back to the windows and monitors. He had no interest in mingling and mixing at this time, his mood already sour. The bartender passed him a whiskey and Tora brooded in silence.

“Welcome.” Vincent was impassive, cold, the warmth of the salutation not reaching his voice. “Once again, we are here to celebrate a new, exceedingly talented recruit.”

The room erupted into polite applause.

“Tonight is a special night as we, once again, call upon you to join us in the Blood In, Blood Out Ceremony as we bring in a skilled clan member and dispose of one who has poisoned our clan for long enough.” Vincent smiled. Out came several women carrying trays of red wine. A woman placed Tora’s red wine on the bar next to him as he listened with disinterest at Vincent explaining the history of the Blood In, Blood Out ceremony.

“Tonight’s initiant has brought his own weapon, a change of pace for us, but certainly not unwelcome as he chose a katana.” Vincent explained. “When asked why he chose a katana, the initiant explained that this katana has been in his family for centuries and it was used by his distant relatives to fight against the great Asura.” Vincent explained. This piqued Tora’s interest, and he glanced over his shoulder at Vincent.

“Now, I present to you the sacrifice.” Vincent said, and Tora returned his attention back to the drink he was having. A hush fell over the crowd, followed by a shocked murmuring, a buzz spreading quickly throughout the room. Tora felt the eyes of several of the lieutenants on him, as he glanced over in the direction of the crowd. 

Unwelcome slices of their whispers found their way into his ears:

“Tora’s girl...”

“Poppy...”

“She initiated before...”

“Poppy...”

“Poppy...”

“Poppy...”

He turned over his shoulder to look at the monitor and his heart nearly burst out of his chest. He scrambled out of his chair toward the window to get a good look. Thick, curly brown hair. A short, curvy body. And the most damning evidence of all, the glint of a promise ring on her finger.

He couldn’t see her face because on either side of her, two men holding chains forced her to her knees, head down.

“And may I present our newest initiant to the Balthuman Organization: Akuma.” Vincent’s voice held a trace of glee at that statement and out of the shadows stepped Akuma, garbed in a black on black suit, hand gripping a red handled katana.

“Vincent,” Tora whispered, and he could see Vincent standing in the middle of the crowd, a hushed murmur of shock passing through the patrons. 

He clambered toward Vincent, pulling him up by his lapels. Several men in the room drew their weapons, and Vincent motioned for them to stand down. The crowd parted, leaving a circle, in the center of which Tora and Vincent stood.

Tora looked over his shoulder at the monitor, her curly brown hair falling over her face, and he could see her shivering in terror. He set Vincent down, his voice wavering,

“Please.” Tora begged him, watching Akuma approach her. Tora felt the sting of tears in his eyes, and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t afraid to show that emotion. “Please don’t do this.”

The two men on either side of this tiny little woman pulled the chains against her neck aggressively, forcing her forward, hair falling over her shoulders, exposing her neck.

Akuma approached slowly, deliberately, like an impending storm, katana firmly gripped in his hand, and the crowd fell into hushed whispers, some putting their hands over their mouth in shock, some watching silently, all aware of exactly who she was.

Tora fell to his knees, and the hum and din of the crowd became the buzzing of bees swirling around them. He felt a sob rising in his throat, looking out the glass, knowing full well he would never reach her in time even if he ran at a dead sprint, but living a nightmare having to watch her as he stayed.

“I’m begging you, Vincent.” His teeth were clenched, trying and effectively failing to hold back a sob. “Please let her live.”

Vincent looked down at Tora impassively, just as he had done through the bars of his punishment cell as a child, a cold expression, one that Tora knew all to well, telling Tora that Vincent had reached his boiling point with Tora.

“Take me,” he tugged on Vincent’s jacket like a child, and a look of disgust crossed Vincent’s face. “Take me, please. I’ll go right now. I’m ready to die. Just—please. Not her.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Vincent finally spoke. Tora felt a fit of sobs rising in his chest, threatening to break free. “I’m a sentimental man. And I couldn’t bear the thought of killing you. After all, I raised you.”

Akuma’s shadow fell over her, an ominous darkness snuffing out the light around her, his katana glinting in the light. Her shoulders rose and fell, her breath increasing as panic took over her body.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Vincent’s voice was level, soothing like he was talking to a child. “I told you there would be consequences for disobeying me—that I would put you down like a dog to force you back into place.”

Vincent squatted down, eye to eye with Tora, who was slowly losing control, his body shivering. The crowd around them stared intently, watching the scene play out before them. Tora heard the whispers of sympathy amongst the crowd, and some whispers of justice being served.

“And you will fall back into place, boy.” Vincent told him gently. “I am your only family. I am the only one who cares about you and your well-being. Not her. She poisoned your mind. Turned you against me.”

Tora looked at him, tears falling down his face, the mighty tiger reduced to nothing at the hands of Vincent Balthuman.

“And now,” Vincent whispered, putting his hand out, clasping Tora’s shoulder. “She can’t hurt us anymore, son.”

Tora shook his head, loud, wailing sobs threatening to escape his body and Vincent stood. The room had fallen into a deafening silence, but blood pounded relentlessly in Tora’s ears.

“What do I do?”

The tears wouldn’t stop coming.

Endlessly.

“What do I do?”

Vincent’s footsteps clacked across the tile floor toward the glass as the pounding of the blood in his ears became an incessant roar. 

Clack.

“Pick him up.” Vincent ordered.

Clack.

Two people on either side of him drug him up by his arms, his body refusing to move.

Clack.

“Bring him to the window. I want him to watch.” Vincent’s voice—his stone cold voice echoed in his mind, those words seared in.

Clack.

“Did I tell her I loved her?” Tora wondered, his mind a mess of jumbled thoughts.

Clack.

“What was the last thing I said to her? I yelled at her, didn’t I?” And remembering that snarling, “Yes, I do.” Was the last thing he had said aloud to her nearly broke him in two.

Clack.

“She said she loved me. And I just stood there. Angry. I didn’t even tell her I loved her.” Shame. Torrents of tears overwhelming him.

Clack.

He was heaved next to Vincent, almost pressed against the window, looking down at Akuma standing over her, katana in hand, looking up at Vincent, who stood with his hands in his pockets. 

Tora wanted to close his eyes—to look away, but he couldn’t.

She was shivering, trying to lift her head, struggling to break free. He could hear her muffled screams behind the glass, but he wasn’t sure what she was saying.

Vincent nodded.

“Vincent.” Tora sobbed. On either side of him, the lieutenants looked at him sympathetically, a tear falling from behind the dark glasses of one of them, his hands shaking as he held Tora in place. “Vincent, don’t.”

If there was ever a good time for Goliath to insert himself into the picture, to pop up into her life like the genie she had called him, now would be the time.

“I’ll forgive him.” Tora found himself saying inwardly, now talking to anyone who might be listening. “I’ll stop being angry at him, and I’ll work something out. Please. Please don’t let him kill her.”

But his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Goliath wasn’t coming, and deep down, he knew that.

Akuma raised the katana, and he heard her screams and sobs echoing throughout the warehouse, shredding Tora’s heart to pieces. He knew she could see the shadow of the katana raising above her head. He knew that she was aware that he wasn’t coming to save her this time—that there was no escape.

“Vincent!” Tora snarled, his voice straining against the rage and distraught tears. Somewhere in the room, someone else was sobbing aloud, the room cold, silent. Everyone knew what was happening, and in the depths of their pity, they all shared a respectful empathy, the notion of “what if that was my significant other?” Echoing wordlessly, slithering through the empty space.

The blade glinted in the light, everything slowing down, and in one quick sweep, the blade ran cleanly through her neck, her body sagging against the weight of the chains, head rolling on the floor face down. 

Akuma flicked the blade, blood spattering on the ground soundly before wiping it on his black pants and returning it to its holster. He turned, bowing in respect toward Vincent, who nodded back.

The lieutenants who had been holding Tora allowed him to collapse onto his knees, shock coming in waves through his body as he put his hand up against the glass, leaning forward, his forehead touching the glass. His body shook, sobs finally coming to a head in his chest, as he clenched his teeth, and closed his eyes. His body took in a deep breath, and out of his body erupted a wail of agony, his scream echoing in the silent room, using every bit of strength and air he had in him before he fell completely to pieces on the floor.

One of the lieutenants began to reach out to him, to comfort him, but Vincent caught his eye, shaking his head, and the lieutenant withdrew his hand, his shoulders shuddering, trying to keep his emotions in check.

“This initiation,” Vincent announced quietly, “is over.”


	36. Obsession

Tora threw the door open to the little dressing room with an earth shattering BANG, the door snapping and hanging by one hinge. Akuma, the only one in the room at the time, turned and looked over his shoulder, cloth in his hands, following the simple curve of the blade gently, cleaning of the remainder of her blood.

“You—“ Tora growled, body shaking violently. He felt rabid, everything in his body filled with rage and murderous intent. “You did this.”

He charged at Akuma, who dodged him easily, sending Tora careening into a set of lockers. Akuma continued the slow, gentle process of cleaning the blade, seemingly undisturbed by the charging of the grief stricken bull.

“You’re not thinking clearly.” Akuma told him, his fingertip tracing the gentle line of the shinogi down the length of the blade.

“You killed her.” Tora seethed. For a moment, his shoulders rose and fell, grasping the lockers for support, tears and panic still feeding his racing heart and temper. Akuma said nothing, setting the blade down gently, and watching as Tora turned on him again, rushing him. This time, Akuma allowed him to take a hold of his lapels, lifting him up.

“It wasn’t my choice.” Akuma quietly looked down at him, looking into his eyes, and he recognized that pain. He knew exactly what he was feeling; knew the pain and loss of losing someone he loved; that wild hunger to kill someone to relieve that pain; doing anything really to relieve that pain for just long enough to come back up for air before drowning in it again.

“Then whose was it? Who did this?” Tora shook him. “I didn’t watch someone else cut her down. It was YOU!”

“You might need to look a little closer to home for that answer.” Akuma sighed, the lack of struggle and fear angering Tora further.

“What THE FUCK are you talking about?” Tora threw him down, giving him a hard shove. Akuma barely budged.

“Was it not your brother who asked you to retrieve the notebook?” Akuma pressed.

“Yeah. And he fucking gave it to you.” Tora snarled.

“And who did I give it to?” Akuma responded. “Honestly, if I wanted this to happen, I would’ve kept the notebook and turned it over to Vincent myself. I don’t like being part of an organization. But what choice did I have in this matter?”

Tora blinked a few times, registering what Akuma was saying.

“Think, boy.” Akuma pressed, walking toward Tora with his hands in his pockets. “Who else would have known where the journal went? Who else just found out that you intended to marry the girl that he wanted for himself? Who else would have the motivation to do this?”

Tora was trembling at this point, all of the clues snapping into place, his brain awash with grief and pure hatred.

“Goliath.”

***Earlier that Night***

Poppy sat across the table from Goliath, looking down at her hands in her lap, finger fidgeting with the ring on her finger, watching the diamonds glitter in the blue lights of the club.

“Poppy,” Goliath started gently. “He will come around. Just give him some time.”

Poppy glanced down at the text exchange between she and Tora her phone:

Tora: Initiation tonight. Welcome Center. The fancy kind.

Me: Yikes. Well, try to have a good time. Drink a few glasses of champagne...or red wine...for me, okay? (READ)

Tora: Yeah. I’ll do that.

Me: Okay. I love you. (DELIVERED)

It had been nearly an hour since she had texted him, and for the second time tonight, she had told him she loved him, and he hadn’t bothered to respond back. Had she done something wrong? She chewed on the inside of her lip in apprehension.

“Did you hear me?” Goliath’s voice broke her out of her reverie. Poppy’s head popped up, glancing at him.

“Yeah. I—yeah.” Poppy nodded. Goliath sat forward, taking a sip of his drink before lounging back. He wasn’t used to trying to comfort someone, much less someone he cared about.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked. Poppy shrugged, and Goliath nodded, getting out of his seat, saying,

“I’ll get you one.”

He stood, leaving her sitting alone, going down to the bar. As he was taking the stairs down, he realized, much to his chagrin, that he had become little more than an errand boy. He was acting like a loved struck teenage boy, falling at her feet for any chance to get her to notice him—to pay attention to him. In the world of universal movie tropes, she was the beautiful teen queen in love with a boy who didn’t deserve her, and he was the hot nerd who desperately wanted to prove that he did.

The bartender leaned forward as Goliath approached the bar, asking,

“Another Sapphire?” He started to turn, ready to mix the ingredients to make the deep blue drink he had been drinking, but Goliath shook his head, and said,

“Something sweet. For the girl.”

He jerked his head toward the balcony where Poppy was sitting. The bartender glanced up into the bar, his expression becoming dark, scolding, and shook his head.

“Be careful with that one.” He told Goliath, who looked at him questioningly. “She belongs to the tiger.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Goliath felt utterly annoyed that he had bothered to tell him that. Besides, she was no one’s property. He didn’t have any sort of contract with her; just that stupid fucking ring he put on her finger to ward off others.

When he first saw the ring, he thought to himself, “That’s it? If she was my girl, I’d have given her the biggest fucking rock I could find. Then people wouldn’t have to squint to see what she was wearing.”

“But she’s not your girl, is she?” He frowned, lacing his fingers together and leaning against the bar. “Yet.”

The bartender mixed a few juices and liquors together, producing a vibrant neon pink drink, and adding a strawberry to the sugared rim. 

Out of nowhere a loud BANG erupted, echoing through the bar as the few patrons in there ran in a panic. Goliath and the bartender jumped, and he whirled around seeing smoke wafting in plumes off of the balcony.

“Shit!” He snarled, sprinting toward the balcony, drawing his weapon. He entered carefully, staying low as the smoke had yet to engulf everything. He happened upon a pair of black shoes. He aimed and shot at the shoes, the man falling to the ground where he delivered a fatal shot to the head, He rolled behind the sofa where Poppy was sitting. He could hear her coughing, and he reached up, putting his hand over her mouth, and jerked her over the back of the sofa.

“It’s me.” He whispered into her ear, and she relaxed. “Listen to me, crawl on your stomach toward the exit. I’ll be right behind you.”

Poppy did as she was told and the two of them crawled toward the exit. Just as Poppy reached the door, Goliath tapped her on the leg, and she stopped.

“I’m going to go ahead. You stay behind me.” He told her, and she nodded. Goliath stood, back against the wall, opening the door slowly, narrowly missing a bullet to the hand.

“Shit.” He yanked his hand back. “Poppy, do you have a mirror?”

Poppy nodded, reaching into her purse, giving him her compact mirror. He held the mirror close to him, leaning it toward the outside to see who his assailants were and how many of them there were. Three men were crouched near the seating area in the lobby and a few more were near the front desk.

He closed the compact, putting it in his pocket, pivoting out and aiming three shots at the seating area, effectively eliminating the threat there. He pivoted back into the bar, checking his clip, taking the compact out once more to double check where the last of the assailants were, before pivoting back out and taking care of the men near the front desk.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, a bead of sweat falling down his neck, as he checked it: Akuma. He put the phone to his ear to listen.

“They’re coming for the girl. Leave her and get out of dodge. They don’t want you.” He told him.

“I’m not leaving her.” Goliath seethed through his teeth firmly. He took a deep breath in through his nose, hissing out of his teeth. “What did you do?”

“What a mercenary does—I took a better offer.” Akuma’s voice was calm, unapologetic.

“Why? Why would you do that?” Goliath somehow felt hurt, and he felt idiotic for even allowing that emotion. He should have known better. He should have listened. But when the fuck did he ever listen?

“You act like we had a bond.” Akuma sighed. “I have no allegiance to anyone—least of all you.”

“What offer?” Goliath pressed. The line was silent for a moment.

“More like a trade: me for Poppy.” Akuma told him.

“What does that mean?” Goliath snarled.

“It means that I am now property of Vincent Balthuman. That’s all you need to know.” Akuma told him.

“You sold Poppy out to join Vincent? This doesn’t make any sense.” Goliath growled.

“It doesn’t need to.” Akuma sighed, growing impatient at the sentimentality in Goliath’s voice. “Get out of that bar, and get as far away as possible. They’re tracking you. I’m—tracking you. And I can’t lead them off the trail for too long.”

Goliath gritted his teeth in frustration, listening to Akuma spout this nonsense, feeling a hatred for him for even daring to put Poppy in danger. He had made it abundantly clear that she was not to be harmed—that he could do anything he wanted with anyone he wanted however he wanted, but she was not to be touched, and he had blatantly disregarded that.

“Remember what I taught you. You know how to disappear.” Akuma explained. “Take nothing and go.”

And at that, the line went dead. He gritted his teeth in frustration, squeezing the phone in his hand before raring back, exerting all of his frustration and shattering it on the floor with a frustrated yell. He put his hands on his hips, head down, and Poppy immediately thought of Tora and how he handled his frustrations. 

“They are so much alike.” She thought, waiting for him to calm his temper. Finally, after he collected himself, he looked up at her, coolly saying,

“They’re tracking us.”

“Why?” She stuttered, her eyes widening in horror as she stared at him. “Who?”

“I’ll explain more later.” He told her. “Your phone.” 

Goliath held out his hand, and Poppy gave him her phone, shattering it on the ground as well.

“Do you have any cash on you?” He asked her. She shook her head. “An ATM card?”

Poppy nodded. 

“Good. Give me the card.” He said. She reached into her purse, giving him her bank card, which he shoved into his pocket. “Get into your wallet, take all of your other cards with you. We will shred them when we get to a safe space. Leave everything else here—purse, ID, everything. They need to believe that you were taken.”

She nodded, understanding what he was saying.

“When I tell you to, I want you to head for the back door. You’re going to be getting on a bus out of Narin City. You’ll be going to the train station.” He explained, and she cut him off,

“Wait. Alone? What about you? I can’t go alone. I don’t know how to—“

But he took her by the hand to calm her down, seeing she was starting to become a bundle of nerves.

“You can do this.” He told her, looking in her eyes. “You can do this.”

She nodded, more of a jerking of her head than anything. 

“There’s a train that will be leaving Narin Station at midnight, and we need to be on that train.” Goliath explained. Poppy nodded, listening to his directions. She wanted to panic and cry and run screaming all at the same time.

“Don’t stop.” He continued. “Keep moving. Avoid cameras as best as you can, including CCTV cameras. Be aware of your surroundings and keep to the shadows. Run, Poppy. Run the whole way there and don’t stop.”

“What about you?” Her voice was shaking. Goliath sighed, pulling his zip up hoodie off of his body and handing it to her, which she took, slipping it over her t-shirt, and zipping it up. 

“I’m going out the front door. I need to withdraw as much money as I can from ATMs along the way. I’ll stay in view of the cameras, and I’m going to lead them away from you. I will meet you at Narin Station, and we’ll be on that train together.” He told her, and he leaned out the door, checking to make sure all was well, and she grabbed his sleeve, tugging on it, saying,

“Promise me. Promise me you’ll be there.” 

She was afraid, feeling like a child who didn’t want to be alone, afraid of the shadows, all of the monsters that lurked in the corners of her bedroom; in her closet. Under her bed.

He took her hand, looking in her eyes, and before he could help himself, he leaned forward kissing her on her cheek, his hand touching her face.

“I’ll be there.” He promised, fingers lingering on her face for a moment more, and off he went. Poppy took a few deep breaths, closing her eyes, and she ran in the opposite direction.

***  
Bursting out of the back door and into the alley, Poppy cling to the shadows on the wall. In her terrified hyper awareness, the distant sirens and clattering noises of Ares Street scared her even more than they usually would, every voice, whoop, holler, or scream, a predator getting closer to her, hunting her, feeding off of her fear. Her body clung to the wall, the slimy moistness dampening her clothing.

“Calm down.” She told herself, taking a deep breath. “Calm down. Let’s get to this bus. Only two blocks away.”

She leaned out of the alley, peeking around the corner. Men and women stumbled through the streets, drunkenly, clinging to each other, yelling. Near the walls of the boarded up shops, couples made out, bodies molded to each other in the heat of a newfound lust. Men in suits, lurked among the cars, chattering quietly with each other, each looking over their shoulders. 

Poppy pulled the hood up over her head, shrinking against the wall, out of sight, keeping her head down, hands in her pockets, trying to walk, trying to look natural when every part of her body told her she should run.

“Hey!” She heard a voice call behind her. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. She kept walking, pretending not to hear the voice, her eyes darting, searching for an escape route.

“Hey, you!” The voice was closer, feet moving faster. She dipped into a dark alley, the sound of feet scrambling after her as she shrank against the wall, closer to the entrance, watching as the man pursuing her ran into the alley ahead of her. She jumped on his back, pulling hard against his neck, wrapping her legs around his body, waiting for him to lose oxygen and pass out, which he did. She searched him briefly, taking his gun and a short blade, tucking the gun in the back of her jeans, blade in the jacket pocket and heading back out into the street, effectively getting all of her nervous energy out, now calmly walking with a brisk pace toward the bus.

***

Poppy looked up at the clock of Narin Station, her heart beating hard. She had been sitting on the bench outside of the train station now for nearly twenty minutes, and that stupid blue hair hadn’t once made its less than shocking appearance.

The ticking of the second hand clanged loudly in the silence like the staccato blast of an uzi.

11:55.

The rushing sound of a busy highway nearby swooshed through the wind tunnel that the platform and two transportation buildings created. Goliath was nowhere to be seen. The conductor had long called for the last passengers to board the train, and Poppy found herself unsure of what she should do. She looked from one end of the platform to the next, praying she would see that shock of blue hair coming toward her, but darkness was all her eyes could manage to find.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and got on the train, sitting down in an empty seat, across from a passenger reading a newspaper. A crushing, weighty loneliness fell onto her shoulders, and she sagged against the seat. For the first time in her life, the full meaning of being alone crashed her, and she put her hands over her eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming, but come they did, falling down her arms in torrents as she wept silently so as not to disturb the passenger across from her.

She had left everything behind—everything and everyone that she knew. And where was she going? He had just told her she needed to run. To avoid the cameras. To avoid being tracked digitally and leaving any trace of herself behind, and she had gone willingly, blindly trusting that he would do what he said he going to—that he would be here, on the train. When would she learn to stop putting her faith in people she barely knew?

In front of her, she heard the newspaper crinkle and fold before hearing the noises of rummaging around and a plastic package opening. Silence followed before she felt something soft pressed between her fingers—a tissue. She took her hands off of her eyes, dabbing them with the tissue, ashamed to look at the passenger across from her.

“I’m sorry.” She said. “I—was trying not to disturb you.”

“It disturbs me anytime I see you cry.” She heard, and her heart leapt. Her head shot up, and there, across from her like an angel sat a man with stupid blue hair, a stupid ace tattooed on his hand, and those stupid silver rings on his fingers.

“Oh my god!” She cried out, throwing herself across the way and into his arms, hugging him and sobbing into his shirt,

“You scared me, you asshole!” 

“Why? I promised you I’d be here.” He grinned, putting his head down on hers, before she regained control of herself, wiping the tears away, getting off of him, sitting next to him, head against the seat.

“We have to call Tora. Tell him what’s going on.” Poppy sighed, starting to get out of her seat. Surely someone would be willing to spot her a cell phone. Goliath snatched her hand, saying,

“No. You can’t do that.”

“But it’s going to scare him.” Poppy explained. “How will he know?”

“He won’t. That’s the point.” Goliath explained. “Look, I’ve done this once before. If he knows, not only do you endanger the two of us, but you endanger him. Not to mention, Akuma is the one stalking us. He will know. He’ll figure us out.”

Poppy looked away.

“So I’m just supposed to just leave? Just like that? Disappear?” She sneered. “He’s going to know there was an attack on the hotel, and when he sees my things—“

“He’s going to think you’ve been abducted or you’re dead.” Goliath’s voice was blunt, brutal, driving the point home, and she felt the unwelcome acidity of hatred beginning to eat away at her.

“And I’m supposed to just allow him to think that? To go on with my life letting him think there’s a possibility I’m dead. It’s going to tear him apart.” She seethed. “And you’re crazy if you think I’m going to do that to him.”

“If he finds out that you’re with me, then everything falls to pieces.” Goliath pressed. “The point is to keep him alive; to give him a purpose to satiate the uncertainty, to pass his time and keep his spirit going. He will spend his time looking for you, putting all of Vincent’s resources into finding a ghost, and that will allow us to get away. To live.”

“And what makes you think Vincent would allow him to do that?” Poppy spat back.

“Because,” he seethed, pulling his notebook out and wriggling it in front of her, “I have the notebook.”

“How did you—when?” Poppy, reached out for it, and he pulled it away from her.

“It doesn’t matter when. The point is, you’re out now. You’re free from this organization.” Goliath reached into his pocket, pulling out a passport and an ID card. “You have a new name. A new face. A new Social Security number. You get to start all over again, but Poppylan Wilkes has to disappear.”

“I can’t do this without him.” She whispered. 

“You have to.” Goliath’s voice was hard; cold. “You want to save him? You want to make sure he’s not implicated in the process? Stay away. He has to believe you’re gone or this is never going to work.”

“For how long?” She asked, her eyes turning toward him. He sighed, looking at her sympathetically.

“As long as it takes.” He told her.

“We can’t run forever. He will find us.” Poppy nodded, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t rest until he found her.

“But we can put enough time and distance between the two of us to determine the conditions of the meeting.” He told her. Poppy pressed her lips together, squeezing her eyes shut, before she nodded, understanding what he was saying.

“Don’t call him. Don’t look for him. Just...wait.” He whispered, reaching over and putting a hand on her shoulder.

“He will never forgive me for this.” Poppy told him.

“He will if he loves you.” Goliath told her. “And he does.”

***6 Months Later***

The days passed in quick succession, and for the most part, Tora went back to his life as it was before she became a part of it. He was glad when Vincent gave him something to do because it kept his mind off of her. Lately, that’s all he could do—anything to keep his mind off of her.

He was always out. Always at the gym. Always taking a job. Always at the bar. 

Crowds of people surrounded him, but he felt utterly alone. He had women—when weren’t there women around him? Then numb sensation of their hands on his body, reaching for him, pulling him closer, vying for his attention became a new and sometimes welcome distraction for him.

His life was a series of motions, and he spent it now just going through them.

When he stumbled back to his room, he stripped his clothes off and collapsed onto the bed in the darkness, but no matter what he did. No matter how busy he stayed during the day, it wasn’t enough to keep the her shadows away from him at night.

He still reached out to touch her when he collapsed into bed, the feeling of the bedding beneath his fingertips cold. He still kept her shirt next to him, her scent on the soft white fabric beginning to fade. And it was in those moments of reaching out to hold her, to feel the softness of her and only feeling the softness of her shirt that he realized that she had never really left him, no matter how much he tried to push her away; to force her down and suffocate her memory in the depths of his mind—anything to make that incessant nagging pain go away.

But then.

But then.

The nagging pain was a reminder that she had existed. That she was real, and that she was everything to him. That he really had loved her, and he didn’t want to forget her. 

At times, he wondered if he was forgetting what she looked like when she laughed. The sound of her voice. The heat of her touch. The way her body molded against his, her skin searing his after sex. The feeling of her fingers in the dark, her whispers in the early morning hours, and it slowly drove him insane. The ghost of Poppylan Wilkes haunted him, falling over his mind and body, possessing him.

He reached for his phone, opening the last text exchange he had with her:

Me: Initiation tonight. Welcome Center. The fancy kind. (READ)

Bobby: Yikes. Well, try to have a good time. Drink a few glasses of champagne...or red wine...for me, okay?

Me: Yeah. I’ll do that. (READ)

Bobby: Okay. I love you.

He hadn’t even bothered to tell her he loved her back. He had dismissed her because he was selfishly angry with himself. How many times had he dismissed her? Taken her for granted? His fingers ran across the keyboard of the phone, hitting send:

Me: I love you, too. Forever. (DELIVERED)

And when he woke up and did it all over again, he would try something new, something just a little different than the normal routine. Maybe, at the bars, when the women reached for him, he would try reaching back.

“Maybe, if I just took her home and fucked her, I could forget about Poppy.” He told himself, but the moment he found his hands touching a body that wasn’t Poppy’s he felt tainted, disgusted. It was just...wrong, and he pushed her away in the darkness, putting his clothes back on, and leaving her to her own devices alone in her hotel room.

On this night, Tora had collapsed into his bed, his arm over his eyes to ward off the dizzying sensation of too many drinks and too many pills. Tora sighed, turning over in bed to the sound of his phone buzzing. He glanced over at it, grabbing it, seeing Akuma’s number on the screen. 

He put the phone to his ear:

“We found him.”

Tora sat up in bed, ramrod straight, the motion of the movement sending his body careening to the right, hand darting out to steady himself.

“Where?” Tora pressed, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to will himself into sobriety.

“Hidden in plain sight. He’s been running an investment firm a few towns over.” Akuma told him. Tora nodded to himself, trying to stop himself from feeling hopeful that it actually was him.

In the last few months, he had had several leads on Goliath’s whereabouts. He followed up on each of them alongside Akuma, fully intending on doing everything in his power he could to find that fucker and nail him to the ground. But each time, the trail went cold. Each time, he returned home with a burning hatred in his heart and no outlet for him to release it, so it simmered, hardening his heart. Each time, that disappointment chipped away at him, a hollow pain drilling a hole into his soul.

“Then, I guess we should make an appointment to look into a future investment with his company.” Tora told him. A dark chuckle emanated from the other side of the phone, and Tora hung up.

He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

***

Tora put on his best suit, pulling his hair back with the strawberry hair tie because this was a special occasion. He carefully shaved, putting the razor down and staring at himself in the mirror. He still looked the same, but somehow he didn’t recognize himself. He had been working out more, and that showed in the cut of his body, but he hadn’t changed much more than that outwardly. Inwardly was a different story.

He sighed, grabbing his briefcase. He rolled out his weapons, choosing the smaller weapons—mostly blades. When he did find Goliath, he wanted him to suffer for what he had done. His obsession with searching for him had made him nearly manic, and the only person willing to even come close to him was Akuma, who everyone already clearly associated with a psychopath.

Tora wanted to rip Goliath apart slowly for what he had done. He wanted to watch his eyes widen in pain, fingers gripping Tora’s wrists, begging him for life as the light slowly drained out of his eyes. He had played that moment out in his mind a million different times in a million different ways.

But.

He knew deep down that killing him wasn’t going to bring her back. He had learned the lesson of empty vengeance a long time ago, and knew that even seeing that light drain out of his eyes as he so badly wanted to do wouldn’t bring him any peace. Instead, it would cure him of the disease of his obsession with payback, and then who would he be?

And then what would he do?

But he had to. He needed this. He needed to know that the man that was responsible for her death was erased from the earth, wasted away in a vat of acid. He needed it before he could move on with his life.

Heading over to the dresser, he slid on his black bracelet, pausing for a moment to hold his silver ring in his hand. His thumb ran over the smooth surface of the ring, intimate flashes of it on her neck, her fingers fidgeting with it when she was nervous. As he had been doing since the night she died, he slid it over his left ring finger and off he went.

Emerging out on the street, he found Akuma waiting for him in a black Porsche. He climbed in the passengers seat and they drove the two hours in silence.

***

Papaver Investments was a tall, sleek building, new in build and modern in style situated in a newer, hipper neighborhood aligned with sleek coffee shops and boutiques, other law firms and banking type buildings sprinkled along the streets. Younger people, the wealthy elite, milled about on the sidewalks, some sitting on benches, with their little dogs, drinking overpriced coffee, others strolling with shopping bags swinging merrily on their arms, and then some strolling alone, listening to music in their earbuds, faces shoved into their phones. It was a stark contrast from the scene of Ares Street.

Tora took note of the building again: the outside of the building was all glass tinted with a purple hue to block out the sun’s rays. He knew that if Poppy saw the building, she would have loved the purple hue, and it reminded him of chasing after Mr. Lam with her.

Above the grand entrance of the building, in sleek illuminated golden letters, he read read “Papaver Investments” in script handwriting, the ‘s’ in investments curled at the end and accented with a red poppy flower. His eyes darkened at the flower on the end, and Akuma glanced over at him, putting a hand on his shoulder, mumbling,

“All in good time.”

He flipped open his portfolio, noting there was no picture of the CEO himself, but reading through the little intel they had on him:

ALIAS: Saul Philistine  
AGE: 25  
ASSUMED IDENTITY: Goliath  
JOB: CEO; Papaver Investments  
DESCRIPTION: 6’1, black hair, shoulder length, gold eyes, athletic, of Asian descent  
STATUS: Armed, extremely dangerous

“Leave your weapons. You won’t need them.” Akuma told him. Tora shot him a sharp glance at that.

“You’ll never make it into the building with them. These buildings are outfitted with metal detectors. He has a state of the art security system as well as a security team on call at all times. You won’t have a chance at getting to him if you don’t go in without weapons.” Akuma explained. Tora sighed impatiently, nodding at that, and off to the appointment they went.

***

“Yes, Mr. Philistine was absolutely thrilled to hear of this potential partnership.” A plump woman in a purple suit gushed, her magenta lipstick smeared just a bit on her face, leading the two of them into the elevator toward the top floor. “We are delighted. Just delighted to have you here.”

She made it a point to keep casting yearning glances at Tora, who stood motionless, staring straight ahead of him, arms crossed, not even bothering to entertain the prospect of using her for alternate admittance. Once they reached the top floor, she led the two of them into a conference room, floor to ceiling glass windows overtook the far wall. In the middle of the room, a long, black ovular table sat, several chairs aligning the ends.

The woman ushered them in, closing the blinds along the near wall so that they would have their privacy.

“Have a seat.” She said cheerfully. “Mr. Philistine will be in shortly. In the meantime, his assistant has prepared the documents of the investment for you to review. I’ll leave those here for you.”

She placed two black leather portfolios down in front of the two of them and exited the room. Tora opened the portfolio, examining the agreement, but he couldn’t focus on it. All he could focus on was the hope that this was Goliath. That they had found him. That he would be across the table from him where he could break the window and impale him on the glass or throw his body down to the pavement below.

The door opened silently, the shades being drawn, and Tora dared to look up. A man with long, black hair had his back turned to them, hand on the door. For a moment, his heart sank. Another lead gone cold. Another wasted day, wasted hope...until he saw the ace tattoo on his hand.


	37. Selfish Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Independence Day (if you’re from the US)! I wanted to post early since I wasn’t sure what today would look like.
> 
> I present to you the fluff!
> 
> Enjoy 😊

“Brother.” He heard a stony voice say, turning to face him, his eyes a hardened gold glaring down at him. “It’s been a long time.”

He put his hands in his pockets, eyes searing into Tora’s as Tora’s hand clenched into a fist. There he was, right there in front of him after all this time, and in his head, in the hundreds of versions of Goliath’s death that had played out before him, this was not one of them.

“I should warn you:” Goliath told him, nodding toward the corners of the room. “It might not look like it, but there are cameras in this room, and I have a security team monitoring us now just as I always do with high profile clients.” 

Tora relaxed his hands, but the murderous thoughts in his mind ran rampant. Akuma glanced over at Tora, who had visibly set his jaw and was clenching his teeth together, holding a hand up as if to say, 

“Calm down.”

“Six months.” Tora seethed. “It’s been six fucking months.”

“I’m glad to see the concept of time hasn’t escaped you.” Goliath wryly commented, taking a seat across the table from him.

“And all this time, ya couldn’t be bothered to show ya cowardly fucking face after what ya did.” It was taking everything that he had in him to restrain himself—to keep himself from leaping over the table and taking him down to the ground, raining down blow after blow on him. He had to remind himself that this was his only chance, and if he fucked it up, he might not get another one.

“Things—haven’t been easy. What with being tracked by the entire Balthuman Organization, much less Akuma. I needed to be ready to show my hand, so I waited until I was.” Goliath explained, flattening his hands out on the table.

“So, this has all been a big fucking game to you?” Tora spat. “Just one big game of chance and strategy for you to enjoy, ya selfish fucking bastard.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was sincere, eyes cast downward as he spoke. “This was the only way.”

“The only way?” Tora repeated, all the restraint evaporating from his body.

“Tora.” Akuma warned.

“The only FUCKING way was to kill Poppy?” Tora snarled, standing quickly from his chair. “There were a hundred other ways you could have done this. Hell, a THOUSAND other options, ya selfish fuck! And you had to fucking take her from me because you couldn’t fucking have her.”

“I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding.” Goliath cocked his head at Tora, eyes darting to Akuma, who sat back comfortably in the chair, watching the scene play out before him, knowing he had no control at this point, so fuck it, why not just sit back and enjoy the show.

“No, there’s no misunderstanding here. Ya didn’t get to have what ya fucking wanted, so ya made sure nobody could.” He was physically shaking at this point. “I know ya might not know this and ya probably don’t give a shit, but I loved that girl. I loved her. I would have taken her place. Why didn’t you just pick me to take her place?”

Goliath was completely and utterly confused at this as Tora leaned forward, palms on the table, trying to pull those walls of restraint back into place. Goliath glanced over at Akuma, who simply shook his head.

Suddenly, the door swung open, a tiny body emerging into the room in a tizzy, clad in a blank pencil skirt, and an off the shoulder black top, hair pulled back into a French twist. She wore sky high stilettos, diamonds glinting from her neck and her ears, but more specifically, a halo of diamonds glinting from her left ring finger.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I tried to get here more quickly, but there was an accident on—“ she stopped dead in her tracks, books and papers floating and clattering onto the ground, her face sheet white as she looked at Tora, who turned his head to look at her.

Tora’s heart slammed against his chest. He felt his knees turn to jelly as he fought to steady himself on the table. Akuma stood, holding out a hand to steady him. He felt overwhelmed, dizzy, and his mouth hung open in shock. 

“It’s okay.” Akuma whispered, and Tora started to tremble. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again.

“N—no.” Tora stammered. “No, she’s dead.”

Goliath looked away from the two of them, tapping his pen on the table uncomfortably, beginning to understand what the hell was actually going on.

“She’s right in front of you.” Akuma held him up soundly, releasing him as he stumbled forward, hands on the table again. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Tora tore the chairs back, leaping and sliding across the table as she took off into a dead sprint toward him, their bodies crashing together. Poppy let out a loud sob of relief, clutching his jacket and burying her face into his chest.

His arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her up to him, her legs wrapping around his body as Goliath and Akuma took their leave from the room, waiting outside the door. 

“Philistine to security.” Goliath said into his ear piece. The security team responded briefly with a go ahead. “Turn the cameras off in the conference room.”

“Sir?” They pressed back, confused.

“Unless you want to witness a very raw and explicit bout of sex, turn the cameras and audio off in the conference room.” Goliath demanded. Akuma looked over at him, lips curving up into a knowing smile as Goliath grinned as well. The two of them sank down to the floor outside of the conference room, each of them putting earbuds in their ears, listening to two drastically different kinds of music.

Tora touched Poppy’s face, feeling a dam burst inside his body, and for the first time, he cried in front of her, his lips crashing onto hers as the sickly feeling of disbelief and relief mingled together in his stomach. She crushed herself to him, feeling like they could never be close enough, her tongue finding his, savoring the taste of him, cigarettes, whiskey, and toothpaste. 

“You’re alive.” He hugged her, nearly sobbing, and her lips crushed into his again, saying between kisses,

“I’m alive. I’m alive.”

He yanked her hair down, running his fingers through her hair, wanting to feel her, savor her, remember her because he felt like he had forgotten. He set her down on the desk, pushing all of the portfolios to the floor, lifting her shirt over her head, yanking her skirt down with shaking hands. Poppy pulled him down onto her body by his tie, and he ran his hands over her body, fingers dipping in and out of the black lace g-string that she wore.

He shrugged his jacket off, loosening the tie and lifting it over his head, hands deftly unbuttoning his shirt with a fury, pressing his body back on top of hers, hands reaching around her back to unhook her bra, throwing it to the side. With the other hand, he gripped her g-string, tearing it off and throwing it to the side. He wanted to feel her, to know she was alive—breathing. 

Poppy reached down, grabbing a hold of him and his breath caught as she stroked him, his head dipping down to kiss her neck, tongue running up the length of it, biting her ear gently as she hissed, squeezing him a little harder and guiding him toward her.

He looked down at her face, and she opened her eyes, looking up at him. He needed to see her, know what she was feeling, to watch her respond to him, and he entered her body slowly. She arched her back, body molding against him, mouth opening slowly with a soft mewling.

He looked down at their bodies moving together, joined for the first time in six months, and he moved against her, gently pulling his length out of her before thrusting back into her, her body jolting. She moaned aloud, and he repeated the movement, slowly out, slamming in. Slowly out, slamming in. And she all but sobbed. 

“Oh. My god.” She gasped, and the sound of her voice alone made him want to fall to pieces all over again. He went crazy thinking he had lost her, and now he was losing his mind again, body picking up speed thrusting hard and fast, relentlessly. He needed this. He wanted this. He had to feel this. To feel her. He grunted, sweat beginning to pour down his body as sweet mewling became intense cries of agonized pleasure.

“Don’t stop.” She breathed hard in his ear. “Keep going. I’m so close.”

And this made him just fuck her faster, harder. He wanted her to feel him and remember long after the sex was over that he had been inside of her. That he had had her, that soreness a reminder that she was his. Still his. After all this time.

“Tora.” She breathed, bucking wildly against him. “Oh my god!”

And she threw her head back, her body succumbing to him as he relentlessly pounded into her, her body tightening around him, pulsing with life as she released, loud, ferociously, fingernails digging into his back, dragging down his body. He growled, taking the pain, enjoying it as he threw his head back, listening to her fall to pieces beneath him. His thrusts slowed to a stop, and he looked down at her, as she said,

“No. What about you?”

“I wanted this for you.” He told her, leaning down to kiss her before she could protest. He pulled out of her, reaching down and pulling his pants up, looking for his shirt and tie.

She sat up, covering herself, feeling the distance between the two of them as reality set in. She picked up her bra, throwing her panties in the trash, useless since they were torn anyway.

Tora buttoned up his shirt slowly, pausing and looking up at the ceiling,

“You—you died. I watched you being beheaded right in front of me.”

Poppy slipped her bra on, clasping the back of it before getting her clothes back on.

“I’m right here.” She whispered. Tora put his hands on his hips after tucking his shirt in, trying to collect himself.

“Why—why didn’t you call? All this time, you’ve been alive. All this time, I—I thought...How could you do that?” He asked her, the pain in his voice apparent.

“If I called you, they would have found us, and I would be dead. They’ve been tracing Goliath for months now. If they found him, they would find me.” She explained. He sighed, understanding her reasoning, but still not liking it. Poppy pulled her shirt down tucking it back into her skirt, and he strode over to her, taking her into his arms again, taking in the way she felt, how she smelled, everything he possibly could.

He took Poppy’s hand, pushing the door open. Akuma and Goliath glanced up, taking their earbuds out. Tora cleared his throat, saying,

“I’m taking her out to lunch.”

“I thought you already did that.” Akuma wryly remarked. Poppy flushed a bright red at that remark, and Tora rolled his eyes.

“Is that a good idea?” Goliath pressed. “Why don’t we order in?”

“No.” Tora growled. “You have kept her from me for six months. I’m taking her, and I’m taking her now.”

Goliath held his fiery stare for a moment longer before sighing and nodding.

“We’re caught anyway at this point.” He shrugged. Tora shouldered past him, Poppy’s hand in his, and they headed for the elevator.

“You knew he would be upset.” Akuma told him, and Goliath nodded. “He will blame you.”

“I know.” Goliath conceded. “And he should. It was my idea.”

Akuma looked down at his hands.

“Our idea.” He suggested. Goliath nodded. “Was it worth it?”

“To have her alone without him interfering for six months?” Goliath’s mouth turned up into a wry smile. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

***Five Months Earlier***  
Goliath unlocked the door to the apartment, heading in, slipping off his shoes. He pulled his jacket off, hanging it in the coat closet near the front door before going to work on his shirt, stripping it soundly off his body, exhaling in relief at the coolness on his body after the heat of a long day.

He pushed his hair back out of his eyes, heading into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water.

“Put a shirt on.” A voice called from the darkness of the living room and Goliath choked on his water, coughing.

“Why the fuck are ya sitting in the dark like that, creeper?” He choked. Poppy said nothing as he turned on the light and she squinted against the brightness, turning to look back out the window.

“It’s not my fault you’re not observant.” She mumbled.

“Alright. This has to stop.” Goliath put his hands on his hips.

“What?” Poppy grumbled.

“This. You sitting in the dark staring out at nothingness. Ya can’t keep doing this. Starting tomorrow, you’re going to be my assistant at the investment firm.” Goliath told her. Poppy pouted at that, but seeing as though she wasn’t being given a choice, she sighed,

“Fine.”

***

Tora sat across the table from Poppy, the candlelight flickering, lighting her face up a golden color, twinkling in her eyes. She reached across the table, holding his hand.

“Explain this to me.” He told her, and she looked down,

“The night you received the text, I went down to Ice Bar. Goliath was there. He had just gone down to get me a drink when someone threw a smoke grenade in the room. Goliath took out everyone involved, and then Akuma called. He explained that Balthuman was coming after us and that we needed to disappear. We smashed our phones, Goliath drained our accounts so we could use cash only, and we left.”

“Just the two of you? Alone? For six months?” Tora prodded.

“Yes.” Poppy admitted. Tora’s thumb ran over the ring he had given her, looking down at her hand.

“Did—“ he swallowed hard, not sure if he really wanted to know, but he needed to know. “Did anything—happen between the two of ya?”

Poppy looked at Tora for a long moment, her lips pressed into a thin line.

***Three months earlier***

Poppy sighed, tossing her keys on the counter, the clatter of the metal bringing Goliath out of his room, leaning on the doorframe and watching her as she took her shoes off, exhausted from the day.

“Long day?” His voice was quiet, but Poppy turned looking over her shoulder toward him.

“Can you please put a shirt on?” She sighed, and Goliath crossed his arms over his bare chest, the dragon on full display over his beautiful body.

“You act like you’ve never seen a man without a shirt on.” He grumbled. 

“Yeah, well, you’re not—“ she did a double take, staring at him. He had dyed his hair black, and it was now down just past his shoulders. They had been together in this apartment for three months and she hadn’t even noticed how long his hair had gotten, how much his body had changed since he worked out to cure the stress he felt. She felt like she was looking at Tora for a moment, and it knocked the wind right out of her.

“Not what?” He asked, relishing in the fact that she was looking at him like that.

“Not—him.” She stammered. His mouth curved into a smile, seeing that she was clearly into what she was seeing. She snapped out of her trance, heading toward her bedroom, pushing the door closed.

She stripped her clothes off, putting on a comfortable pair of shorts and a loose long sleeved shirt, throwing her hair up into a loose ponytail. She looked in the mirror, pointing at herself and grumbled,

“Get your shit together, Poppy.”

She opened the door, heading out into the kitchen to see what they had to cook for dinner, reaching down into the wine fridge, and pulling out a bottle of rosè, poured a large glass as she pulled out ingredients for a stir fry, and cranked the volume up on the speaker, playing a song that made her happy. She drank, danced, and sang, perfectly comfortable in her cohabitation.

Goliath watched her from the comfort of the living room, smiling at her as she sang, drinking the rosè like it was going out of style, using spoons and spatulas as microphones. His heart fluttered a bit, seeing her so happy and at ease, and even more delighted that she was so comfortable around him.

At some point, and about two glasses in, Poppy glanced over in his direction, his heated stare making her heart flutter. How could he look at her so brazenly? So unashamed?

She shifted uncomfortably, turning her back on him, and finishing up the stir fry, the rice cooker clicking, signaling the rice was ready to go. Goliath joined her in the kitchen, as he grabbed a bowl, scooping some rice before grabbing the stir fry. 

Poppy leaned against the counter, pouring another glass of rosè. He approached her just as she turned around, bottle in one hand, glass in the other. He set down his bowl, trapping her in the corner of the counter, saying,

“Slow down, Poppy.”

He plucked the bottle from her hand, and she rolled her eyes, trying to push past him, bouncing off his rigid body in the process. She turned her eyes up to his, intending on protesting, but found herself lost, staring into those beautiful golden eyes. He held her gaze for just a moment more, before he turned away, telling her,

“I don’t want to have to hold your hair back again while you puke.”

“No one is asking you to.” She ducked under his arm, turning back to yank the bottle out of his hand. He sighed, looking down, knowing full well she was hurting, also knowing that him wanting her the way he did was wrong. She would never love him the way she loved his brother, and he had to accept that, but found himself unable to. He felt that fire burning in his body anytime he was near her. He wanted to reach out and yank her into his body, shaking her furiously, asking her,

“What the fuck does he have that I don’t? Why can’t you see what’s right in front of you?”

But she would always look away from him.

Always go back to Tora.

And he couldn’t stand that.

He sat at the table across from her, the two of them sharing a meal in silence.

***

Six glasses deep.

She was six glasses deep, and Goliath was doing everything he could to keep her stable. She had more than a buzz, but she wasn’t quite wasted yet. 

“I’m in my happy place.” She announced. “And I feel waaaaaarm and fuzzy.” 

Goliath snorted at her, watching her sway back and forth, falling backward into the high pile rug and making snow angels.

“Oh. Oh. Oh. I have the best idea everrrrr.” Poppy slurred.

“You’re going to go to bed and stop drinking?” Goliath guessed.

“PFFT! You’re ridiculous!” Poppy laughed, punching him in the shoulder. “No. We are going to play rock, paper, scissors. Winner gets to ask a question. Loser has to answer. No choices.”

“Alright. Game on.” Goliath smirked. Poppy swayed back and forth, closing her eyes,

“Rock. Hic. Paper. Scissors. Shoot!”

Goliath made a fist in his hand, and Poppy made a scissors motion before seeing his fist and changing it to paper in front of him.

“I winnnnnn!” She giggled. 

“You cheated.” Goliath grumbled.

“I’m allowed to.” Poppy indignantly stated, crossing her arms and putting her nose in the air.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. Poppy leaned forward on her hands and knees, narrowing her eyes, and Goliath’s eyes widened at the closeness between the two of them.

“You don’t really hate your brother.” She whispered.

“True.” Goliath said. They went another round, this time Goliath winning.

“You find me attractive.” Goliath pressed. Poppy rolled her eyes,

“You always make everything about you. You. You. You.”

“You didn’t give me an answer.” Goliath smirked. Poppy sighed a loud, long, exaggerated sigh.

“Fine. True.” Poppy grimaced, sitting back and putting her hands over her eyes. Goliath gently took her hands, moving them away from her eyes, and said,

“You don’t have to hide from me.”

Poppy suddenly found herself completely and utterly taken by him. She looked down at his hands on hers, and he gently moved his hands to lace them in hers.

“No.” Poppy screamed inwardly at herself. “This is wrong.”

But her body suggested otherwise. She looked up at him, his eyes fiery, as he moved closer to her. She leaned away from him, feeling her body sway backward, and he caught her, pulling her closer to him. The distance between the two of them was suffocating, but she felt this pull with him that she couldn’t explain.

“Stop it, Poppy.” She screamed at herself. “Stop. Now.”

He reached up, touching her face with a gentleness she didn’t even know he possessed, and Poppy found herself frozen in place.

Goliath’s heart raced as he looked down at her, his hands on her face, and she was allowing him to touch her like that for the first time. He didn’t want to mess this up because this would probably be his only chance. 

His thumb traced her lips, feeling his heart rate increase, and when she didn’t pull away, he couldn’t hold it any longer. His lips planted a gossamer kiss on hers, sweet and gentle, and he pulled away after a moment, looking down at her before she closed the distance between the two of them, climbing into his lap, and pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Fuck, YES.” He found himself thinking. He kept his hands high on her back, careful not to do anything that would ruin this moment. Once she came to her senses, he knew she would regret this, but selfishly, he didn’t care. He wanted this. He wanted anything she would give him, drunk or sober, right or wrong. 

“I know ya enough to know that you just want to get in her pants. And the minute I catch ya doing anything to try to act on that, I will fucking crucify you.” He heard Tora’s voice echo in his mind. Well here she was, in his arms, on top of him, kissing him.

“And where are you now, brother?” He thought gleefully to himself, before pushing those thoughts out of the way.

Poppy tangled her fingers in his hair, and he couldn’t help himself when she did, yanking her head back roughly by her hair, with a growl tongue tracing the outline of her neck as she shivered in pleasure. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, an acute awareness and total sobriety overcoming her as she backed away from him.

“No.” She rasped. “What are we doing?”

Goliath put his hands out to calm her down.

“It’s okay, Poppy. We didn’t do anything wrong. We got a little carried away, but it’s okay.” It was like speaking to a feral animal. “We stopped, okay? And we don’t have to do it again if you don’t want to.” He gently told her.

“If I don’t want to.” She scoffed, angry now. “I never wanted to.”

“That’s not what it seemed like to me.” Goliath bit back.

“No. Fuck you, you selfish bastard!” Poppy scrambled to her feet, storming off to her room and slamming the door shut. Poppy raked her hands through her hair, sliding down to the floor. What the hell was WRONG with her? Somewhere, Tora was out there looking for her, and she was over here playing house with his brother like that. 

“What’s the matter with you?” She seethed at herself. “Seriously, Poppy, get a hold of yourself.”

“But he’s hot. And he lives with you.” She heard the devil in herself tell her. “And you liked that kiss. You liked it a lot.”

“No. Bad Poppy.” The angel in herself scolded her. “You love Tora, and Tora loves you.”

“Yeah, but who knows if you’re gonna see him again?” The devil pressed. “Are you really going to hold out for someone that you may or may not see again?”

The angel in herself hesitated, chewing on the inside of her lip.

“Yes?” It came out as more of a question. “I mean, it was just a kiss, right?”

***

“I—“ she found herself stammering. “I—“

“I see.” Was all Tora could manage to say. He couldn’t exactly fault her for it. He had spent his fair share of time with women of his own. 

“I’m—so...so sorry.” She told him. He looked away from her, his face nearly unreadable.

“I guess I expected it. My brother has a way with women, and being alone with him for six months, not knowing if or when we will ever see each other again.” Tora told her, his thumb still running over her ring. Her shoulders were shrugged up near her ears in tension, face flushed with disappointment and embarrassment, feeling like a scolded child under his gaze.

“We—we just kissed. Once.” She told him. Tora snorted a little, relieved inwardly that that was the story because judging by her reaction, he had expected way worse.

“Poppy,” he said her name gently, and she looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “I forgive you. You were lonely. He was your only friend, and your support system. Not to mention, he’s been actively pursuing you. I can’t expect ya to just hold out hope we could see her other again and not act on human emotions. Something had to give.”

***Three months earlier***  
Poppy emerged from her room in the early hours of the morning. The rosè effectively out of her system, she snuck into the kitchen for a drink, sliding the balcony door open to sit out in the fresh air on the wicker loveseat they had bought, looking at the twinkling lights of the city.

Behind her, the door slid open and shut. She glanced over her shoulder, Goliath recognizing she was out there, and pausing for a moment,

“I’ll—go back inside. I didn’t realize you were out here.”

“Wait.” Poppy sighed. “Come sit out here with me.”

Goliath hesitated a moment more, then sat down next to her.

“I’m sorry.” Poppy started. “I freaked out. This is—still pretty new for me. It wasn’t fair of me to call you selfish and blame you like that.”

“You were right though.” He told her, glancing over at her. She looked back in question. “I was being selfish.”

He turned his body toward her, and said,

“Poppy, I’ve always wanted you. Always. Even when you were with my brother, I wanted you. Hell, I even knew you as a teenager, and I wanted you then. 

“So, when I had the chance to have you. Even if it was just for a second. I took it. I’m a selfish fucking bastard.”

Poppy gawked, unsure of how she should respond.

“This. The two of us.” Poppy stammered. “We can’t happen.”

Goliath nodded, understanding what she was saying, but not really hearing her. Poppy nodded, stiffly getting up off of the chair and heading back into her bedroom, closing the door.

****  
Poppy looked up at Tora, sincerity glinting in his eyes as he held her hand.

“And what about you?” Poppy asked. 

“Yeah.” He admitted. “I’ve been with a few women—never had sex, but...well...”

Poppy nodded. It was fair. They were both exploring these strange new emotions together. Reconnecting. 

“And now?” Poppy pressed hesitantly. Tora looked her dead in her eyes, a flat serious expression on his face.

“And now. You’re alive.” He told her. “And nothing has changed the way I feel about you. I still love you. I still want you. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

***one month earlier***  
“Here’s to a brand new high profile client!” Goliath smiled, and Poppy raised a glass, clinking it together with his and drinking.

“Congratulations.” Poppy smiled. “You’ve worked hard for this.”

“Well, you helped me along the way.” Goliath grinned back.

“We make a pretty good team, I guess.” Poppy sipped her champagne, and Goliath looked over at her, nonchalantly resting his arm on the back of the loveseat.

“You know,” he looked down at his glass, the little bubbles of champagne rising off of the bottom of the glass, “we could make a good team if we were together too.”

Poppy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, immediately becoming uncomfortable.

“Goliath—“ she sighed.

“Hear me out.” Goliath pressed. “I’ve had my ear to the ground for the last five months, trying to see if there’s any weakness in Vincent’s clan. So far, it seems like he’s become even stronger. Tora is still hunting us pretty ruthlessly. Poppy, we aren’t going back to Narin City anytime in the near future.”

“I know that.” Poppy told him. “Goliath, there are hundreds of women in this city who would kill to be with you. I’ve seen you in the tabloids—you’ve always got a model on your arm.”

“That’s for the tabloids though. It’s a game of business. Publicity. We both are in the business of building clientele. She gets me into the tabloids, boosting our reputation and image. In return, I get her the sponsorship or business deal that she wants.” He shrugged.

“But how is that hiding? We are supposed to be keeping a low profile.” Poppy argued.

“Ever heard of hiding in plain sight?” Goliath pressed. “Besides, I’ve covered all of my tattoos, I wear contacts, I dyed my hair. I’m a whole new person. But you’re changing the subject.”

“Why don’t you make it more than friends with them? Surely at least one of them has expressed interest in you—even if it’s just for the sex.” Poppy dismissed him. Goliath snorted in laughter,

“Poppy, if I wanted to have sex with one of them, I wouldn’t be in the business of striking a deal with her first. I don’t need to flex my bank account to fuck a woman.”

Poppy’s cheeks flushed at that statement. She knew he had a way with women, and there had been many a night that the sounds coming from his bedroom told her that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“But that’s beside the point. I don’t want other women. I want you.” He told her blatantly.

“I have no interest in a relationship based on sex.” She shot him down.

“Poppy, I don’t want to be with you for the sex. I mean, shit, getting to have your body would be one hell of a fucking bonus, but I’m interested in you. Just you.” He told her.

“I can’t.” She told him. “Until I know there is no going back; that I’ll never see him again, there is no me with anybody else.”

“Oh, come on, Poppy. You can’t live your life like that.” He told her. “You don’t have to love me, but you at least like me, right?”

“No.” Poppy blatantly growled, becoming impatient with him. “I don’t.”

It stung more than he thought it would. He knew this day would come eventually, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. He had tried everything, jumped through all of her hoops, been perfect. But it still wasn’t enough.

“How do you know he hasn’t moved on?” Goliath grumbled. 

“He wouldn’t do that to me.” She spat back.

“You don’t know that.” He shook his head.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I do.”

“Is he so perfect to you?” Goliath retorted bitterly,

“What if the roles were reversed, Goliath?” Poppy pushed back. “If you found me first, and it was the two of us, and he took me away. Would you move on?”

“I don’t—“

“Would you?!”

“No.”

“And just think,” Poppy growled. “If you, the self-proclaimed selfish bastard, wouldn’t move on, what makes you think that he would?”

And at that, she pushed herself off of the loveseat, not even bothering to look at the mess she was leaving behind.

Goliath raked his fingers through his hair, anger and pain overwhelming him. He had never felt like this before—this helplessness and sense of spiraling out of control. He knew she didn’t love him. She had never pretended to. He had held out hope for so long that somewhere along the line he could possibly change her mind...and what a fool he had been for ever thinking so.

***  
Goliath and Akuma were leaning against the black Porsche in the Papaver Parking Garage when Poppy and Tora came strolling back hand in hand. Goliath’s eyes lingered on Poppy for moment, before he put his hands in his pockets, raised his eyebrows, and looked away.

Tora let go of Poppy’s hand, casually going toward the back door to open it for Poppy. Akuma moved out of the way, heading toward the drivers side, and Goliath stepped back. Suddenly, Tora snapped, aiming a hard right hook at Goliath, taking him to the ground and raining blow after blow after blow on his face.

Akuma rushed around the side of the car, hauling him off of Goliath as Tora fought against Akuma’s grip. Goliath picked himself up off of the ground, standing up, blood on his face as he nodded, wiping it on his sleeve, and staring at Tora, who raged on.

“You selfish son of a BITCH!” He roared, breaking free of Akuma’s grasp, flying toward Goliath, who caught him, taking him down easily, fists flying in a fury at each other. Akuma ushered Poppy into the back seat of the car, growling,

“Better let them get it out. It’s been a long time coming.”

She sighed, nodding and closed the car door, reaching into her bag and pulling out earbuds to block out the noises.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Goliath growled, aiming a hard jab to Tora’s face. “I’m the selfish son of a bitch who took care of your girl.”

Tora aimed another blow at his face, which Goliath caught mid-air, and gritted his teeth, taking special pleasure in getting under his skin, seething,

“In more ways than one.”

Tora felt his blood rush to his ears, and he let out an inhuman roar, flipping Goliath off of his body and onto the pavement. The two of them continued to go at it until the anger turned into a sizzling hatred, and they went down together, sliding against a wall, both bloody, both gasping for breath, both in severe pain.

“You might not believe this,” Goliath rasped, “But everything I did was to get her out of the clan.”

“Explain.” Tora growled.

“I took her. Made it seem like she died. Gave her a new name, new social security number, new ID. As far as they know, she’s dead.” Goliath wiped a trail of blood from his nose, head falling back against the concrete wall.

“So, touching her was all about getting her out of the clan, huh? Color me fucking surprised.” He hissed.

“What the fuck do you think we did?” He seethed, rolling his head to glare at Tora. “We never fucked, bro. I kissed her once, and she shut me down.”

Tora glared back, relieved to hear the same story from both of them.

“She doesn’t love me.” Goliath sighed, his breathing returning to normal. “Shit, she doesn’t even like me. She said so herself.”

Tora’s grinned at hearing that, and Goliath turned to look at him, rolling his eyes and grinning too.

“Yeah, you would smile at that, you fuck.” Goliath laughed. 

“If you knew that, why press it?” Tora asked, looking over at him.

“I mean, look at her, bro. She’s hot as fuck.” He smiled. “Besides that, I’ve had a thing for her since we were kids, and I still like her, but I would never pressure her into something she didn’t wanna do. But, shit, if she WAS ever going to let me touch her, who the fuck would I be to turn her down?”

“You really are a selfish fuck.” He frowned, looking over at him, and a small part of him actually felt pity for Goliath because he had held a torch for her for so long.

Tora glanced over at the car, and Poppy opened the car door.

“Are you two done now?” Poppy asked, pulling her earbuds out. Akuma got out of the car with two towels, tossing them to Tora and Goliath.

“Yeah,” Tora said, eyeing Goliath as the two of them got up. “We’re done.”

Tora shoved the shit out of Goliath, sending him stumbling to the side, laughing as they headed toward the car.

“You fuck.” Goliath laughed, shouldering Tora as Goliath opened the door to the passenger seat and Tora slid in the back beside Poppy.


	38. Sweet, Sweet Revenge: Poppy Style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more fluff with a touch of Poppy serving up some sweet, sweet revenge on her man.
> 
> I figured after the last fast pass, we could all use it.

38  
Heading into Goliath and Poppy’s apartment tower made Tora feel immediately self-conscious. He had his own apartment, sure, but it was a shithole of a place with bare, cracked walls, flickering fluorescent lighting, and a tattered bed for him to sleep in. He had never really believed in frivolity, only truly buying what he needed.

The lobby of their apartment was massive: just like the office they shared, it was a new and modern build. Dark, wood adorned the floors, giving it a sleek, cozy feel, and the lobby was separated into four separate areas. Near the front, occupants scanned a card to gain access to the building, two men in suits worked behind a white, marble desk, one of whom, greeted them:

“Mr. and Mrs. Philistine. Good evening. May I please check your guests in?”

“Didn’t know ya got married while we were apart too.” Tora bitterly remarked in Poppy’s ear.

“Certainly.” Goliath smiled. “Gentlemen. IDs, please.” 

As always, when traveling, both carried fake IDs and passports for instances like this. Tora dug his ID out, handing it over as he shot a nasty glare at Goliath.

“Mr. Yang. Mr. Sato. Welcome to Papaver Towers.” The man smiled, scanning in their IDs and handing them back. “Please have a pleasant stay.”

Tora turned toward the bar area, which boasted a full kitchen, espresso machine, coffee maker, wine fridge, and a few domestic beers on tap. He ran his hand over the white marble bar, amber pendant lighting bringing out the flecks of glitter in the marble.

He followed his line of sight around to a large living room, white leather sofa, love seats, and chairs situated over a high pile white rug, a movie theater sized television played basketball on it quietly. 

Near the elevators, the lobby boasted a game room complete with vintage arcade games, pinball machines, modern arcade games, and casino type tables.

Tora glanced over at Poppy, who stood next to Goliath in her diamonds and designer clothes, chatting merrily with the people at the front desk, and he marveled at how comfortable she seemed in this environment. He watched as her shoulder brushed against Goliath’s, and Goliath laughed heartily, putting his hand on the small of her back, playing the part of the doting husband to his beautiful wife, and Tora couldn’t help but wonder if he really was playing a part. From what Tora could see, he had taken care of her well, providing things for her that Tora wasn’t sure he could ever provide her.

Poppy reached up, putting her forearm on Goliath’s shoulder, brushing his hair out of his face. It was a sort of intimacy that told Tora that somewhere, in the span of the last sixth months, they had bonded and become comfortable enough to put their hands on each other in a way that was more than friendly and less than intimate. Something about that tiny bit of touch slowly ate away at him on the inside as he was forced to stand back and wait it out.

“Well, it’s been so good to chat with you, and we will see you tomorrow.” Goliath smiled. “And please, when you get off work tonight, you two go get drinks on me.”

Goliath passed the two doormen each a twenty, and they heartily thanked him. He led Poppy by the small of her back toward the elevators as Tora and Akuma followed closely behind. Once they were all on the elevators, Goliath and Poppy sidestepped away from each other, leaving a large gap between the two of them. Goliath scanned his card and pushed the penthouse suite. The elevator traveled the twenty stories, doors opening to a small hallway, gentle classical music floating in the area against the white walls uplift with purple lighting, where they headed to the only door, scanned their card, and scanned their fingerprints, the door clicking open soundly.

Goliath held the door open for the three of them, and all of them removed their shoes at the front door. Tora followed a Poppy as she held her shoes in her hand, making her way across the grand living room to her bedroom. She opened the door, a magnificent view of the city greeting them across the entire far wall, door heading out to a generous balcony. Her bed situated was on a pedestal, purple glowing lights lighting the underneath of the white overstuffed bed. 

In she walked to her walk-in closet, stopping near the front in front of a case full of expensive designer shoes, each immaculately organizer by color, type, and heel height. She then turned toward another cabinet, placing her purse in the correct spot in the cabinet.

“Jesus, Poppy.” Tora growled, hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. “Yeah, it must’ve been REAL tough for you to leave ya old life behind.”

His voice was dripping with pettiness and sarcasm, and a Poppy didn’t miss a single bit of it.

“It was difficult.” Poppy stared at him point blank. 

“Sure didn’t seem like it downstairs when ya had your arm all on his shoulder and ya were touching his face and shit.” Tora kicked his feet around uncomfortably.

“Tora. We play a part here. Once we get behind closed doors, all of that disappears.” She explained.

“Yeah, well. Maybe it shouldn’t.” Tora sighed.

“What?” She spat. She felt her heart sink in her chest. She had just gotten him back and now he was talking about leaving?

“I can’t give ya all this, Poppy. What can I do for you that Goliath hasn’t already done and a hundred times better?” Tora barked back. “He gives ya everything ya could ever want. He got ya out of the clan and gave ya a new life. He protected you when I couldn’t, and he loves ya.”

“Love has to be a two way street to work, and I don’t love him.” She explained. “I love YOU.”

He turned away from her, and she caught his sleeve.

“Tora, these are just things. At any given time, all of this could disappear, and then what would I have?” She told him. “Even if you had nothing, I would rather live with nothing and love you, than be given everything and feel completely alone.”

“But I want to give you these things. I want to buy you diamonds and nice shit and give you this fancy apartment.” He told her. “I want you to touch me the way you touched him downstairs and show ya off to people.”

“But that’s not who you are.” Poppy pushed back. “And I’m okay with that.”

“Yeah, well, what if I wanna be?” He was frustrated now. “I would do anything to have you be as relaxed around me as you are around him.”

“Tora,” she laced her hand in his, “I am that relaxed around you. Look at me.”

He looked at her, and she could see the battle going on inside his head. He pondered her safety and well-being. He wondered if she would ever really be safe with him with the type of work he did, but when it came to Goliath, there were no strings attached. He could come and go as he pleased without a target painted on his back or hers.

“Where is all of this coming from?” Poppy pressed. “You’re scaring me.”

“I just—“

“That’s the thing with you two!” Poppy threw her hands up in frustration, and Tora’s eyes widened. She turned her back to him, undressing and placing her clothes on dry cleaning hangers. 

“It’s always about what YOU want and what YOU feel and how YOU think things should go, and I’m just supposed to go along with it.” She tore her bra off, flinging it in frustration in the dirty clothes before slipping in a sports bra, a loose tank, and some gym tights. 

“You know what? I’m tired of just going along with it. I’m tired of being afraid of everything; jumping at shadows. I’m tired of doing what everyone says is best for me because everyone seems to think I can’t think for myself or that I’m too emotional to even consider speaking to about what the hell happens to me.” She sat down on the little circular bench in the closet, putting on her no show socks and tennis shoes.

“So, I’m going to go down to the gym. I don’t want you or anyone else to follow me. In the meantime, you figure out what the fuck you want, Tora. And I mean just you. Not you thinking about me. Not you deciding what’s best for both of us. I mean what does Tora want. And I’ll figure out what I want. Think long and hard because this is the last time I’m doing this.” And at that, Poppy stormed out of her room, where Goliath glanced over at her, saying,

“What are you looking fo—“

She shot him a lethal glance, and he put his hands up in defeat, recognizing the best course of action when she was mad—really mad—was to shut the hell up until she calmed down.

She snatched a water bottle out of the cabinet and grabbed the kitchen towel, slinging it over her shoulder before grabbing Goliath’s key card on the way out, turning over her shoulder to growl,

“I’m taking your key card. Deal with it.”

And out she went with the glorious slam of the door. Tora wandered out into the living room, hands in his pockets. Akuma and Goliath both eyed him suspiciously.

“Bro,” Goliath grinned. “The fuck did you do?”

***

Poppy’s feet moved furiously on the treadmill belt, arms pumping in a dead sprint as the sweat glistened on her body. The brothers weren’t the only ones who had learned to go to the gym when they were stressed. In her earbuds, she blasted her music, but for her, it was little more than white noise.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone slip onto the treadmill next to her. Talk, dark, hair pulled back with a strawberry tie, black tank and deep gray sweatpants. She glanced over at him, rolling her eyes and getting off of the treadmill.

“Fine. If he wants to play this whole ‘you’re better off here’ game, let’s play.” She thought to herself. She wiped the sweat off of her face with her tank top, and when she turned her back, she could feel the heat of his gaze on her as he turned on the treadmill to a light jog. 

Taking advantage of his stare, she crossed her arms, slowly pulling her tank top off of her body, tossing it to the side, and squeezing some water into her mouth and into her chest, deliberate in her dabbing it off with a towel.

She headed over to the free weights, picking up the weights that she needed, turning her back to him, but keeping to the side to be able to watch her form in the mirror in the wall. Slowly, she bent over, sticking her butt out, running the free weights down her thighs to her ankles and shrugging back up to perform a deadlift, squeezing and flexing her butt as she did so.

The door to the gym opened up and in walked one of the other apartment guests, a beanie and big headphones covering his head. His body was massive, toned, muscles rippling down from his tank top, basketball shorts and compression tights on the bottoms. She could tell he was an outdoors kind of guy by the deep tan of his body, but he wasn’t completely a jock, judging by his full tattoo sleeve on his right arm.

Poppy continued her deadlift, and she saw a pair of deep green flick over to her in interest, before respectfully flicking away, nonchalantly heading to the free weights next to her as she continued her deadlifts. She knew exactly what she needed to do to get his attention.

“Oh, no.” Poppy feigned, dropping one of the weights and clutching her right thigh. She saw Tora tense up, getting ready to turn the treadmill off, but before he could do anything, green eyes was there at her side. Poppy popped her earbuds out of her ears, setting them on the bench press.

“Are you okay?” He asked, and she could feel the gentle pressure of his hand on her arm. She looked up, and his eyes were sweet, concerned. What a sucker.

“Yeah. Just. My thigh cramped up. I guess I didn’t stretch enough before lifting.” She told him, massaging her thigh.

“Here. Let’s put the other weight down. Need some help to stretch? I’m a professional trainer. I work for the NBA team here.” He told her. 

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” She found herself thinking, knowing Tora was making a mental note of this in his head.

“Wow. That’s incredible. I work at an investment firm nearby. Papaver?” She smiled at him sweetly.

“That’s really awesome. I think you guys are one of our sponsors.” He grinned.

“Well, let’s see what we are funding.” Poppy smiled, and he nodded.

“Alright. Where is the pain? In the front where your quads are or in the back where your hamstrings are?” He asked.

“The back.” Poppy said.

“I figured since you were working on deadlifts. Just wanted to make sure.” He grinned, winking at her. “Alright, lie down on your back.”

Poppy did as she was told, and he got down on his knees in front of her. Tora reached out and gripped the treadmill handles brutally, the force of his grip causing a loud snap as the plastic of the machine tried not to give under his grasp. Poppy laughed evilly on the inside, and green eyes seemed totally oblivious.

“Go ahead and lift up your right leg and put it on this shoulder.” He explained, and Poppy did as she was told. He slid his left hand over her knee to her upper thigh and clutched her ankle with his right hand. She was pretty sure a vein had likely popped out of Tora’s forehead by now as she heard the persistent beeping of him turning the speed on the treadmill up, almost certain she heard him grumble the words,

“Stupid little fuck.” 

Under his breath.

“Okay. This is going to seem kind of strange to you, but I’m basically going to lean forward toward you slowly to stretch your thigh out. Just tell me when you feel that pain start and we can focus on a deeper stretch there, okay?” He smiled, full of rainbows and sunshine and good intentions.

Poor, sweet, innocent little trainer. 

Poppy nodded, and he leaned forward slowly, his body coming further and further down toward Poppy.

“Wow.” He smiled. “You’re really, really flexible.”

“Yes.” Poppy smiled, looking him dead in his eyes. “I am.”

Tora stumbled a little on the treadmill before regaining his composure and the trainer’s smile disappeared. Green eyes swallowed hard, his eyes suddenly smoldering, understanding the heat of that innuendo. Just as his hips were positioned over her own, she feigned a look of pain, her voice breathy and she moaned in fake pain,

“Right there.”

The trainer nearly lost his mind, and Poppy could feel, more of less than he was very, very turned on. Tora shut the treadmill off, grumbling as he did so, stomping over to the multipurpose machine and setting it up the way he liked it, taking a seat where he could watch the show but still work out at the same time.

“I’m, uh, gonna press a little deeper.” He told her, his voice deepening to a low growl.

“Please do.” She grinned seductively, and he leaned forward a little more with a nervous laugh holding the stretch a moment longer before releasing her.

“Does that—feel better?” He asked her, his hands nervously rubbing her thigh, traveling just a little further down than they probably should.

“Oh. So much better.” Poppy grinned. He nodded, letting her bring her leg down, and he took her hands lacing his fingers in hers and helping her up, continuing to hold her hands in his. She heard the sound of all of the weight Tora had been lifting purposely slam down and both green eyes and Poppy glanced over at him.

“Yeah. You should go get some rest. Ice that for a while, and if you’re still feeling that pain, I’d be happy to come over and show you some tricks to help relieve it.” He told her, reluctantly letting her hands go.

“I would love that.” Poppy smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He rummaged through his gym bag, pulling out a card and handing it to her.

“Even if you aren’t feeling any pain. If you just want to hang out or grab a drink. It would be nice to know someone around here.” He grinned, awkwardly and she took the card. 

Hook. Line. Motherfucking Sinker.

“That sounds great.” She smiled. “I’ll give you a call.”

He nodded, backing away, and Poppy re-racked the weights, grabbed her towel, earbuds, and water bottle, and exited the gym, heading up to her room, satisfied that she had put on quite the show for a now very pissed off Tora, whom, she just realized, she had left alone in the gym with green eyes.

She shrugged. What could go wrong?

****

Poppy ran her fingers under the shower water in the large apartment shower, waiting for the temperature to warm up before she heard the bathroom door slam and lock, and a very agitated Tora stood as a dark mass in the doorway.

She glanced at him briefly and then back to the water, and said,

“Sorry. But I’d really like to take a shower right now. You can wait outside.”

“You think you’re real cute, don’t ya?” He growled. Her lips curved into a smile. 

Got ya.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shrugged. Satisfied, at the temperature, she got into the shower, back to him as she began slowly rubbing the rough, salty sweat off of her body. 

“Flirting with him like that in front of me.” Tora growled. “Ya trying to get him killed?”

“Not at all.” Poppy grinned sweetly. “I just figured since I’m going to be staying here, I might as well talk to other people that I find cute—“

“Stop it.” Tora grumbled.

“Attractive, sexy. Stable.”

“Poppylan, I’m warning ya—“

“Someone I could really see myself with.”

Tora kicked off his shoes and tore off his shirt, flying into the shower like a tempest and cornering her.

“Someone you could really see yourself with, huh?” Tora put his arms out on either side of her, body pressing dangerously close to hers as she backed into the wall.

“That’s what I said.” Poppy told him, sticking firm to her resolutions, looking him straight in his eyes as he said it. He wasn’t going to intimidate her into changing her mind. If he wanted to play this game, the Poppy would fucking play.

He grunted in assent.

“Tell me something:” Tora told her, hands running down her arms, leaning in close to her ear. “It looked like he made you feel good with that stretch. But do you think he could make you feel this?”

His fingers moved over her breasts, breathing uneven and ragged in her ears, his erection pressing up against her.

“I think he could.” She sighed. He nodded against her, taking her hands, and guiding them over his body, and she felt herself instantly turned on by him. She knew what he was doing, and she gently took control of the situation and moved her hands down his slick, wet body, pushing his sweatpants down, shamelessly revealing his erection. 

For a moment, he looked shocked at her. She had been so dismissive of him before, and here she was basically pulling his dick out. But hey. Who was he to complain?

She took a hold of his shaft, gently moving her hands up the length of him and back down. She stood on her tiptoes, whispering into his ear.

“But remember: this is all about the material things he can give me. Not the way we FEEL or what he can give me emotionally...much less—physically.” And at that, Poppy released him with a tiny shove away, turning her back to him and getting her hair wet.

“Oh, you are treading on dangerous grounds.” Tora growled, stroking himself. He strode forward, pulling her body to his, hands traveling all over her body.

“Dangerous or not.” Poppy swallowed. “You wanted this. You wanted me to live without you, and if that’s what you want, then take a good look, Tora, because this is what my life will be like.”

He stood dumbfounded for a moment.

“The only difference is,” she grabbed his hands, guiding them up her body, “this body won’t be yours to touch anymore. These hands won’t be running over your body anymore.”

She threw his hands to the sides, and growled,

“You don’t get to decide to just come around and touch me when you want to just because you want to. Remember, it was YOU who wanted this.”

Tora watched as she finished her shower, shouldering past him to get out and dress in her closet. He followed suit, finishing his shower, sans pants this time, and followed her into the closet, towel around his waist.

Poppy heard his gentle footsteps padding toward her as she dressed.

“What do you want?” She sighed, toweling off her hair.

“You.” He told her. She looked over her shoulder at him, putting her towel off to the side. He crossed the room in two quick strides, pushing her against the cabinet, his lips falling on hers hungrily, and she melted right into them.

“You wanted me to be selfish.” He whispered on her lips, lifting her up on his hips, hands in her hair, kissing her again with an urgency.

“Then, I’ll be selfish. I don’t like it when I see other people touch ya.” He took her hands in his, guiding them to his chest. “And after seeing that prick lean into your body, and me telling you earlier it should be my brother doing that shit to you, the last thing I fucking want is to see my own fucking brother touching you like that.”

He trailed his hands up her back and she shivered.

“I think—it would drive me insane if I knew I had you, and I let ya go to him on my own.” She put her forehead to his, listening, and he looked into her eyes. “I would spend the rest of my life watching you love someone that’s not me, want someone that’s not me, and the thought of that kills me because I want you. And I love you.”

“Tora.” She whispered.

“I promise you, I will find a way to be the man who can give you all this shit the right way.” He told her, and Poppy threw her arms him, relief flooding through her body. She kissed him again, and he set her down, running his thumb across her cheek.

“Ya know I’m gonna kill that fuck from the gym, right?” Tora smirked.

“Tora. You can’t kill everyone that flirts with me.” Poppy rolled her eyes.

“No,” Tora conceded, “but I can kill most of them.”


	39. The Terms of Freedom

39  
“Ya really gotta quit that shit, bro.”

Tora glanced over his shoulder from the wicker loveseat on the balcony, then turned back around, putting the cigarette in his mouth and flipping Goliath the bird. Goliath grinned at that, putting his hands in his pockets, leaning against the railing.

“Everything alright between you and Poppy?” Goliath asked, quietly glancing at the door that led from the balcony into Poppy’s room to his left.

“Why?” Tora took the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing out a plume of smoke. “Hoping we broke up so you could take her?”

He smiled wryly at Goliath, who looked down at his feet, grinning back, and said,

“As much as I would love that, I know it would kill her, and I’d rather not spend the next month getting her to a place where she could finally stop sitting in the dark, staring out the window because you were gone.”

Tora’s smile faded, and he flicked the ash off the end of the cigarette, the orange glow lighting up his eyes again, which studied the city in thought.

“I know that everything ya did was to protect her; to get her out of the clan.” Tora’s voice seemed far away, his thoughts racing. “And I guess I never really did tell ya thanks for that.”

Goliath raised his eyebrows, nodding at Tora’s uncomfortable admission and gratitude.

“I do care about her. Even if I can’t have her, that doesn’t mean I won’t still do what’s best for her. Even if what’s best for her is your dumb ass.” Goliath grinned, and Tora smirked back, blowing out the smoke, tendrils curling and weaving through the night sky.

“So, what happens now?” Goliath asked, voice suddenly going serious. “Now, that you know we’re here and Balthuman sent you to come get me.”

“We negotiate.” Tora told him. Goliath nodded, asking,

“What sort of terms were you thinking?”

“You give Vincent the notebook, but not before making several copies of the contents. You give explicit directions to someone on your staff and an outside source that you trust that should something happen to you, these files will be made public.” Tora suggested.

“You want me to just hand the notebook over? Just like that?” Goliath asked. 

“You got a different plan?” Tora put the cigarette to his lips again, lazily blowing out the smoke.

“I buy your freedom, too.” Goliath told him. Tora glanced over at him, seeing he was dead serious.

“Vincent would never let me go.” Tora told him. 

“He will if the price is right. And with that notebook, he could take down a lot of organizations. All he has to do, is let you go and let us live in peace.” Goliath told him. Tora nodded.

“And if he refuses?” Tora asked.

“Then I release all of his shit to the press and turn it over to the police, and he’s fucked. It’s simple blackmail.” Goliath shrugged.

“It’s simple until Vincent puts a fucking bounty on ya head.” Tora growled. “And mine for that matter.”

“If that happens, then we cross that bridge when we get to it.” Goliath told him.

“And when you say ‘we,’ you mean you and Poppy.” Tora pointed out.

“I hoped it would mean me, you, Akuma, my security detail, and Poppy.” Goliath told him. Tora nodded, looking back out at the city.

“I don’t want her involved.” Tora explained, flicking the butt of the cigarette over the balcony railing.

“That’s not your choice to make.” Goliath shot back. Tora cast a sharp glance at Goliath and a tense silence fell over the two of them before Tora said,

“I guess you’re right.”

“Tomorrow. We all head to the conference room together and call Vincent. We draw up contracts. Do this the right way.” Goliath explained. Tora nodded, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t going to go the way Goliath was planning.

Tora nodded, and said,

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.”

And he headed to Poppy’s room, opening the door quietly and shutting it, locking it soundly. Then, he checked her bedroom door and locked that too. It was a habit that never really left him, despite the likelihood of a balcony breaking and entry being slim to none.

Gently, he crawled into bed next to her, left hand touching her leg, tracing up her body all the way to her face as he lay down next to her. Her eyes fluttered open looking at him, and she smiled softly.

“Hey, stranger.” She whispered.

“Ya know,” Tora told her, his heart swelling, “I missed you. Every single day.”

“What? A big, scary thug like you?” Poppy teased. “I don’t believe it.”

Tora playfully jerked her over to him and wrapped his arms around her, taking in her scent. For the first time in sixth months, when he reached out for her, she was there, alive, breathing. He was afraid to go to sleep; afraid that when he woke up, she would vanish like she always did when he dreamed of her.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake, he found himself drifting off to the sound of her breathing and the warmth of her body.

Tora awoke with a start, sitting up ramrod straight, reaching out and finding himself alone. He lay back putting his hands over his eyes only to hear the sound of the bedroom door open. In walked Poppy, fully dressed for work in her nude shift dress and heels, hair curled, makeup natural, pearls adorning her ears and neck, a glittering Tag Heuer watch on her wrist. She carried two mugs of coffee, setting one down on Tora’s bedside and sat down with the other next to him on the bed.

“Poppy.” Her name tumbled off his lips in surprise. She looked over her shoulder grinning at him, and set her coffee down, pulling back the blankets, and sitting on top of him, running her hands over his chest appreciatively, leaning down to kiss him. 

“I thought I was dreaming too.” She smiled, trailing her fingers down his arms and lacing her fingers in his. He moved his hands over the curve of her body, growling in appreciation, hands moving gently over her thighs, trailing to her inner thighs slowly moving up. She cocked her head deviously sitting back to give him easier access when a loud knock on the door startled both of them.

“Poppy. We have to leave. Stop fucking your boy and let’s go!” 

Goliath.

She rolled her eyes, and Tora grumbled,

“Fucking cock block.”

She dismounted, heading into the closet to put on a pair of red heeled, nude stilettos before grabbing a nude purse, transferring her belongings. She strode back over to him, leaning down and giving him a relentlessly deep kiss, before grabbing her coffee and heading out.

He couldn’t help but notice how her heels made her hips sway just a little more, her walk more of a sexy sashay, and he went completely rigid just watching her leave. He definitely needed a cold shower after being alone with her in a room for more than two minutes.

“Have fun?” He heard Goliath poke fun as she opened the door.

“More than fun.” Poppy pressed back breathily, making a lewd gesture with her hands.

“Aw, come on, Poppy, that’s fucking gross.” He heard Goliath say, and Tora cackled from the bedroom.

“You asked.” Poppy shrugged.

“Come on, you harlot.” Goliath sighed, grabbing his wallet and heading out the door.

***  
Poppy sat next to Goliath near the head of the conference table. In front of them, like a blaze burning through the table, sat Goliath’s notebook. Tora and Akuma sat across from Poppy, Tora unable to keep his eyes off a fidgety Poppy, who was thankful to have a portfolio in front of her to mess with while the conference call was going on.

The door swung open, and in walked a team of several more people in black suits. Tora looked questioningly at Goliath, who waited for everyone to be seated:

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. The purpose of today’s conference is to call Vincent Balthuman to strike a deal with him in exchange for this notebook. This notebook contains valuable and confidential information, most of which is related to illicit activities.

“At this time, Poppylan is passing around NDAs for everyone in this room to sign. The information presented in this meeting is strictly confidential and may not leave this room. Should the information leave this room, you will be terminated on site and faced with a lawsuit. If you feel you are unable to comply with these requests, please leave the room at this time.”

Everyone in the room sat silently, most sitting forward with their hands clasped together.

“At this time, I will be introducing everyone in this room. To my right, of course, is my lovely wife, whom you may refer to as Mrs. Philistine. Going clockwise around the table from there is my legal team made up of Wesley Peterson, Yara Amara, and Kendal Weston. Next is the head team of my security detail: Edward James, Kendrick Smith, and Elliot Nicholson. Representatives for Mr. Balthuman are seated next to the security detail: Mr. Yang and Mr. Sato. 

“Mrs. Philistine will brief you on the terms of the contract that we will be presenting to Mr. Vincent Balthuman.”

Poppy sat forward, opening the portfolio, poised and confident:

“Thank you, Mr. Philistine. The terms of the agreement are as follows: We wish to exchange the notebook in front of us for Tora’s termination from the Balthuman Organization and reestablishment into the Papaver Organization. In exchange for this notebook, we also request that Mr. Balthuman and all members of his organization cease and desist all communication, harassment, and threats to the Papaver Organization and all who are employed within. This includes, but is not limited to: threats, destruction of property, harassment, assault, battery, kidnapping, attempted homicide, homicide, and all threats against the livelihood of any member of the Papaver Organization.

“Should Mr. Balthuman not adhere to these terms, copies of the notebook have been made and will be distributed to the public by means of the media, law enforcement, as well as any and all mentioned parties contained in the notebook itself.

“We recognize that should Mr. Balthuman refuse these terms, we reserve the right to defend ourselves by any means possible including but not limited to: assault, battery, homicide, attempted homicide, threats, slander, destruction of property, harassment, and organized attacks.

“Are there any questions about the terms of the presentation?”

Tora almost had a heart attack listening to Poppy present this information in such a calm and collected manner. Not only did she just tell all of these people that they were well aware the contents of the notebook, most of which referred to organized hits, bribery, and murder, but that they would be willing to defend themselves using lethal force. They outed Vincent as the thug that he is, and essentially just told a room full of people that he was a murderer.

Tora half expected whispers or, at the very least, shocked expressions, fidgeting, etc, but everyone in the room was absolutely unphased. They nodded, reading through the terms and conditions.

“Legal team, before we continue, are there any amendments that should be made to the proposal in front of you?” Goliath asked. The legal team quietly conferred, before saying,

“No, Mr. Philistine. This contract seems airtight and rock solid. We are happy to proceed forward with negotiations.”

Goliath then turned to the security team and asked:

“Security team, before we continue, are there any amendments that should be made to the proposal in front of you?” 

The legal team conferred quietly, before saying,

“No, sir. Expectations are clear. We are ready to protect and defend you as necessary by the actions stated in this contract.”

Goliath turned finally to Tora and Akuma, asking:

“Representatives for Mr. Balthuman, are there any questions that you have or amendments that you believe should be made before we continue with the negotiations?”

Akuma and Tora looked at each other and then shook their heads. 

“Then, let us proceed.” Goliath smiled. Next to him, Poppy picked up the phone, and dialed Vincent’s number. The phone line chirped twice before the room heard:

“Vincent Balthuman speaking.”

“Mr. Balthuman. My name is Saul Philistine, and I’m here with my wife, my legal team, my security team, and two of your men, Akuma, and Tora. I believe that you have received a contract from us. Could you please verify that you have received that contract?” Goliath asked smoothly, but Tora could see he was nervous, as he was fidgeting with his two silver rings on his hands. He heard a dark chuckle on the other line that resonated in the room. It sent shivers up Poppy’s spine.

“Mr. Philistine. I do indeed have your contract before me, and it would absolutely be my pleasure to negotiate a deal with you.” Vincent purred. Tora glanced over at Goliath, who met his eyes with a nod, an unspoken measure of support passing between the two of them. More than anything, he wanted to reach out at hold Poppy, whom he knew was a bundle of nerves beneath her tight shift dress.

“Let’s begin first with Tora.” Vincent growled. “I understand that in order to retrieve the notebook in question, you want me to first terminate my most valuable employee.”

“That’s correct.” Goliath responded. The line was quiet for quite some time. Tora waited with bated breath, hands squeezing the arm of his seat.

“I’d like to speak to Tora at this time. Privately. Please put him on the line.” Vincent’s voice was cold. Everyone in the room turned to look at Tora, who nodded in response. Poppy’s eyes met his for a moment, and he nodded. Goliath slid the phone across the table, pushing the button to take it off speaker.

“Sir.” Tora grumbled into the phone.

“After all this time. After everything I’ve given you, you turn your back on me, boy?” His voice sounded almost hurt, but strained at the same time. Tora said nothing, and a part of him did feel regret at this turn of events. He looked down at his hands like a scolded child.

“That little bitch changed you, made you soft. I thought getting rid of her would have helped you move on, turned you back into the machine that you were before.” He growled.

“Once you killed her,” Tora softly told him. “You fucked yourself out of any loyalty I had to you.”

“So that’s it, then? You’ve made your decision? This is what you really want?” Vincent’s voice was low, almost a hum.

“You pushed me to this point.” Tora told him.

“Know this, boy. You will never be free of me.” Vincent warned him, seething each furious consonant into the phone. “There is no contract, no clause, nothing that will hold me back from finding you. And I will not rest until I have your head.”

“Don’t threaten me, Vincent. We both know the outcome of that.” Tora’s voice was calm, lethal, and Vincent chuckled.

“I’ve taught you well. If I’m going down, at least I’m going down to you.” A twinge of humor tainted his voice, and Tora nodded, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Then, let’s resume.”

Tora handed the phone back to Goliath, who put it back on speaker, setting the receiver down.

“I’ll comply with the terms.” Vincent conceded. “But I would like it noted, that Tora and I have an agreement that in order for his termination to be valid, one of us will need to die.”

He said it so simply, so casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world, and for Vincent, it probably was. That agreement was never one that was in the cards, and never one that was mentioned aloud between Vincent and Tora, but it was one that had to be so. For a betrayal like this, one that involved Vincent Balthuman so intimately, this was the only way.

All eyes turned to Tora. The legal team clicked their pens, ready to note a change in the terms at Tora’s concession. Tora glanced over at Goliath, who stared back at him intently.

“Tora, do you agree to the amendment?” Goliath’s voice was quiet, sad. He knew this meant that the full weight of the Balthuman Organization would come down on Tora’s head, that Vincent would use every man, weapon, and connection in his arsenal to bring Tora down.

It meant that this was war.

“I agree.” Tora’s voice rang out into the silence.

Loud. Clear. Damning.

And the scratching of the pens began their amendment, binding Tora to the terms of his agreement.


	40. UPDATE TOMORROW!!!

Okay you guys, no update today!

I ended up writing the CCC prompt today and it took A LOT longer than I thought. I promise I will be back with the new chapter tomorrow.

In the meantime, if you wanna read the latest CCC One Shot (Tora and Poppy reunite), click on the link or copy and paste the link below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25030714/chapters/60904747

SEE YOU TOMORROW!!!


	41. Leaving for War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s back.  
> Back again.  
> Sugar’s back.  
> Tell a friend.
> 
> I’ll stop. But the war is starting, my friends.

40  
The drive back to Papaver Apartments was silent, everyone in the car preoccupied with their thoughts about the impending assault coming for Tora.

Vincent had indeed agreed to all terms, but it was the first term, the “one of us must die” term, that had everyone on edge. Tora put his knuckle to his lips, deep in thought, while Poppy clutched her skirt, holding back an outburst.

Once they got into the apartment and Poppy stormed to her room, Tora knew he was in for it. Goliath shook his head sympathetically, and Akuma stood, looking out the window, hands behind his back.

Tora entered Poppy’s room, silently shutting the door, bracing for the emotional onslaught, but instead, he found himself staring at torrents of tears falling down Poppy’s face. He smirked because, for once, she was having a normal reaction instead of forcing herself to subdue her emotions. He sat down next to her, unsure of what he should do or say.

“Why would you do that?” Poppy sobbed. “What were you thinking? No hesitation. No discussion. You just decide this all on your own?”

“Poppy, one way or another this was going to happen. There isn’t another way out of the Balthuman Clan.” He told her, reaching out for her hand, and she snatched it away.

“So I’m just supposed to be okay with an entire organization hunting you down? I’m supposed to be okay with you dying for this?” She sneered.

“What makes ya think I’m the one that’s going to die?” Tora queried. 

“Oh. I don’t know. Maybe a whole organization coming after you plus the organization’s allies!” She spat at him, crossing her arms, her distraught tears turning into anger.

“I’m not just going to lay down and take it, ya know? I know this organization and how they work.”

“But that doesn’t mean you—“

“Jesus Christ, Poppy!” His outburst nearly caused her to fall of the bed. “Have a little faith in me!”

She paused for a moment, his angry eyes meeting hers, a tinge of hurt flashing through them.

“I do.” She said after a long moment. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not scared of losing you again.”

He understood that feeling better than almost anyone—what loss felt like. How it felt to live without her. It was nearly unbearable.

“I know.” He told her, and this time, when he reached for her, she let him hold her hand. She looked down for a moment before telling him,

“You’re not doing this alone.” 

He glanced over at her, hating that she was committing to being a part of this, but knowing that if he were in her place, he would be doing the same thing.

“I figured.” He told her.

***

Tora headed out into the balcony, giving Poppy a moment alone to process what she was feeling. The door slid open from the living room and out walked Goliath.

“If you’re about to start talkin’ shit, I already got it from a Poppy.” Tora spat. “I don’t need it from you too.”

Goliath nodded, taking a seat on the loveseat as Tora lit up a cigarette.

“There had to have been another way.” Goliath grumbled, stating solemnly out at the city.

“There wasn’t, and ya know it.” Tora breathed out a tendril of smoke, flicking the ash onto the balcony. Goliath nodded. He did know it because he had lived it. But watching his brother take on an entire organization alone or even with him—they both knew his chances of success were slim.

“When are you leaving?” Goliath’s voice was quiet, thoughtful.

“Tonight. After Poppy is asleep.” Tora told him. Goliath nodded.

“You know I’m coming with you.” He told Tora, who glanced over at him, smoke creeping from his mouth.

“No, ya—“ Tora argued.

“I’m not letting my own fucking brother go charging in into his death alone, asshole.” Goliath seethed, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll leave it to you to get everything prepared then.” Tora told Goliath, who nodded again in return, glad Tora hadn’t threatened to tie him to something to keep him there.

***

Tora’s fingers grazed her face gently as Poppy slept, looking down at her and feeling his heart break. He wished that he could kiss her one more time, hold her one more time, make love to her one more time before he left, but he knew that he would always wish for one more time even if he had told her or done those things a thousand times.

There was nothing that scared Tora more than the thought of losing Poppy again, and he would be damned if he was responsible for putting her in the line of fire. He knew she would put herself there willingly and had even told him so, but that would not only endanger her but endanger him because he would spend his time looking out for her rather than himself.

There was no other choice than to leave while he still could.

Tora leaned down, placing a kiss on her cheek, whispered,

“I love you, Poppylan.”

And forced himself to leave her room silently.

He crossed the living room, heading for the door when the slight movement of a shadow caused him to drop his bag and instantly aim at the person standing in the darkness.

“Akuma.” Tora greeted him briskly, lowering his weapon, putting it back in his waistband.

“Going somewhere?” Akuma pressed, moving into the light just enough the Tora could see the silhouette of his facial features.

“Leaving for Narin City.” Tora replied, picking his bag back up again.

“You know I cannot follow you.” Akuma told him, a strange emotion encapsulating his voice.

“Didn’t figure you were the type that could.” Tora answered.

“Once you walk out that door, our alliance is over.” Akuma explained. “I have pledged my loyalty to Vincent, and even if I don’t like his decisions, I am bound by my loyalty, regardless of my unwavering respect for you.”

Tora was quiet for a moment, the full impact of his words registering with him, knowing full well this meant that if or when they meet again, one of them would have to die.

“You’re really going to choose Vincent fucking Balthuman over us?” A voice sneered from behind Tora, Goliath effectively making his presence known.

“This is why I worked as a mercenary. I didn’t want to have to choose. But it became clear that I was going to have to the moment I got involved with you.” He told Goliath, whose hands balled into fists.

“We have a saying in Japan:” Akuma continued, “‘He who runs after two hares will catch neither.’

“I had to make a choice—a logical choice. You are outmanned, outnumbered, outgunned. Your chances of survival are nearly none. I cannot risk everything I have worked for because you chose love over loyalty.”

“You and your loyalty can go fu—“ Goliath fumed.

“Goliath.” Tora’s voice was calm, steady. “Enough.”

Goliath collected just things and stormed out the door of the apartment. Akuma calmly put his hands in his pockets, looking at Tora, expression unapologetic.

“Until we meet again.” Tora said, and Akuma nodded:

“Until we meet again.”

****

The simple bliss of sleep began to melt away as Poppy reached out for Tora, hands falling across cold sheets, fingers touching the softness of the empty bed. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and stretching, before pulling the blankets back, opening up the bedroom door.

The apartment was silent. Empty. The cold, white of the marble counter top from the kitchen a stark contrast against the deep gray shade of the living room, a low roll of thunder rumbling outside of the apartment.

Poppy turned her attention to the balcony, opening the door to see the ominous gray clouds collecting overhead, dirt and leaves from the tiny potted tree on their balcony scattering across the porch, collecting against the plexiglass railing. She glanced up at the sky again before heading back inside, padding over to Goliath’s room.

“Goliath?” She knocked gently on the door. No answer. Poppy’s hand rested on the door, and she closed her eyes, turning the knob and opening the door. The lights were off, curtains drawn, the deep blue light of the light under the bed illuminating the room a melancholy shade. The empty bed told Poppy that she was completely and utterly alone...with the exception of a tiny figure, no bigger than a Pilsner glass sitting in the end of the bed.

Poppy flipped the light switch on to see a tiny, green stuffed dinosaur sitting on the end of the bed, little forest green spikes on his back, innocent black beaded eyes staring up at her. An envelope sat in his tiny dinosaur lap. She hesitated, feeling her heart drop into her stomach before crossing the room to pick up the dinosaur and the note.

On the front of the note, in beautiful calligraphy, her name was written. With shaking hands, she flipped the note over, opening it, and sitting down on the bed as she read:

Poppy,

By the time you read this note, I’ll already be in Narin City. Before I left, I thought it might be a good idea to write to you. Kinda like soldiers used to do before they went off to war. The only difference is this is the only letter I’ll be able to send you.

The last six months may not have been ideal for you, and I know there were times when you wished you could’ve been stuck with anyone but me, but for me, I think they were the best months of my life. Actually, I know they were.

I got to watch you go from this broken girl who would barely get off the couch to eat or drink to this strong, beautiful, kick ass woman who stood beside me as my equal. I want you to know that in my eyes, you are worthy of the whole world, and you could lead it if you were ever given the chance. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you can’t do something or you aren’t good enough for it because you are. 

That’s why I’ve left Papaver to you. I know you will take care of everything we have built together, but what’s more, I know you care about everyone in that building.

Finally, the last thing I want you to know is that I care about you, and I always will. You are the reason that I want to be better and do better. 

So please listen to me when I say: 

Don’t look for me. Don’t call me. Don’t come to Narin City.

Just wait.

People are looking to you to be strong, Poppy. Don’t let them down.

Love,

Goliath

The ink had begun to run on the page as the tears began to fall. She rose, heading back into her bedroom, intending to set the dinosaur on her nightstand, and that’s when she saw it—

A little paper airplane, a black bracelet, and a silver ring, and she felt herself fall to pieces right then and there.


	42. Less Than Helpless

41  
“Poppy,

“I know you’re probably pissed right now. But I need you to understand why I did what I did.”

\- - - -

He was right. After she had gotten over the sadness of being left behind and all alone, she was pissed. But at least she had a purpose.

Poppy pulled herself together, used to disappointment now; used to understanding that she was the weak link; used to people making decisions for her.

She chose a red shift dress today, fully intent on not wasting her day away in tears when there was work to do.

“Mrs. Philistine, it’s so lovely to see you. I didn’t see your husband this morning. I trust everything is okay?” The doorman asked, his voice betraying a hint of true concern. Poppy paused at the front desk for a moment.

“He’s fine. He’s just a selfish fucking bastard who went to go off and die and left me here alone because apparently involving me in this is too much of a chore for him.” 

That’s what she wanted to say—really wanted to say, but instead, she swallowed, forcing a smile, and told him:

“Everything is perfectly fine. He went off on a business trip, and he woke up early to catch a flight.”

The doorman visibly relaxed and nodded,

“Then please let us know if there is anything we can do to assist you in his absence.”

“Why? Because I can’t do it alone? I can’t do any of this without my man to come and rescue me? Chauvinistic bullshit.” Poppy thought. She knew she was being petty and that many of her thoughts stemmed from the hurt she was feeling at being abandoned.

“Thank you.” She smiled, heading out the door to the car that was waiting to take her to Papaver.

\- - - - -

“When I got into the Balthuman Organization, I thought I was invincible because Vincent raised me to believe I was. Killing was second nature to me; it was just—normal. 

“When I got a text from Goliath—that people were coming to kill him—the last thing I expected, and the last thing that I wanted, was to run into you. You were this anomaly—this dangerous piece of the puzzle that I couldn’t quite figure out how to fit into the picture.”

\- - - - - -

“We can’t just go to Vincent’s office.” Goliath snarled. “That place is crawling with security. You know they have amped it up since they heard we were coming for them.”

“Well, no shit, Sherlock.” Tora bit back. The two of them sat in the dark sedan, tension bursting within the cabin of the car.

“Then where the fuck do we start?” Goliath pressed. Tora thought for a moment, his knuckles against his lips, considering the question. When he decided to do this, there really wasn’t a clear plan. He was just planning on doing this himself and flying by the seat of his pants, but now he had someone else to worry about, which threw spontaneity out the window.

“Goruden Street.” Tora said, taking his knuckles off his mouth and looking over at Goliath.

“Close to Ares Street.” Goliath nodded. “What about Yamamoto?”

“I may know someone who could get us in.” Tora mumbled, and he put the car into drive and headed toward Vice.

\- - - - - -

“So when I saw you crawling out of those bushes, you were just this tiny girl who knew too much, but I couldn’t be sure. 

“So I followed you. I just wanted to get the notebook and then get out, so I wouldn’t have to get involved with you. But it wasn’t that simple because then I got to know you. I tried so many times to push you away. To make you hate me, scared of me, disgusted with me. But you saw right through me.

“You had more guts and faith in me than any person I had ever known in my organization, and I knew I couldn’t stay away from you. You had become this fire—this light in my life that I was so drawn to, and I never knew until I met you how much I needed you.”

\- - - - - -

“Mrs. Philistine?” The voice seemed distant, and Poppy jumped in her seat. Two of her top investment bankers were staring at her in concern. “Are you alright?”

Poppy blinked a few times, and nodded, saying,

“I apologize. I think I’m just tired. Why don’t we take a break for a moment. I’d like to get some coffee.”

Poppy started to stand, but the banker next to her put her hand on Poppy’s arm, and smiled,

“Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll go get it?”

Poppy put her hand over the banker’s and nodded,

“Thank you.”

“Come on, Poppy. Focus. Get your shit together. You’re almost done for the day.” Poppy scolded herself.

“For what it’s worth, Mrs. Philistine.” The banker across the table quietly told her. “You are a great woman to work for, and I think you’re doing a good job.”

If there was one ray of light in this entire situation, it was that she worked in a place where she was loved and appreciated even when she was at her worst.

Poppy nodded and the female banker came back into the room again, setting a latte down in front of Poppy. She seated herself, opened her portfolio, and nodded. Poppy leaned forward, folding her hands together, and said,

“Let’s finish this up.”

\- - - - - - -

“I made an extra effort to see you even though I told myself not to, and then you grew some steely hamster balls and you kissed me, and that was it for me. 

“I think I knew I loved you even before then when you grabbed my arm outside of Alice’s and put me in my place. Maybe even before that when you socked me in the nose, which I still consider to be one of the best hits I’ve taken to the face.

“But I knew you couldn’t be a part of this organization. I didn’t want this life for you. I wanted to keep you as far away from Balthuman and Ares Street and that whole world as possible. But you still got sucked into it, and I will always consider that my greatest failure.”

\- - - - -

“Tora. What a pleasure to see you!” Tanaka smiled, as he and Goliath entered Vice. Tanaka looked out the door, locking it.

“What can I do for you?” Tanaka asked.

“We’re in trouble.” Tora told him, and Tanaka raised his eyebrows at that.

“And what exactly are you doing here bringing trouble to my doorstep?” Tanaka took the top off of a liquor bottle and poured three glasses of vodka, topping it with soda. He pushed the two drinks out to Tora and Goliath.

“This is Yamamoto territory now. I’m hoping they can help us.” Tora took a sip of the drink, the fizzy liquid making him grimace a little.

“But you’re Balthuman, aren’t you? Why would they help you?” Tanaka pressed, taking a sip himself.

“He isn’t anymore.” Goliath answered for him. “That’s why we want to reach out to Yamamoto.”

Tanaka nodded.

“Trying to get out of a gang isn’t so simple?”  
It was more of a statement than a question, but Tora nodded. 

“Then, what can I do?” Tanaka asked, setting his glass down and giving Tora his full attention.

\- - - - - -

“But then the strangest thing happened: you ended up being this kick ass, amazing member of the Balthuman Organization. At every turn, you surprised everyone, including Vincent himself, who isn’t easily shocked.

“You took all the bad hands dealt to you and turned them into winning hands, each time coming out stronger than before. Each time, better than before. Each time, defying what others thought you could do because that’s just what you do, and I’m so proud to call you my girl because every time I thought I needed to step in and protect you, you basically told me to fuck off and that you could do it yourself. And if you didn’t tell me, you sure as shit showed me.”

\- - - - - - -

Poppy collapsed onto her bed, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with her. She was a bundle of nerves and had been all day long, and the investment bankers she had worked with were absolute saints. They were well aware that something was going on with Poppy and probably aware that it had something to do with Goliath, but they weren’t sure what, so they took the lead, and Poppy appreciated that.

She rolled over onto her back, looking up at the ceiling, hands behind her head and she let out a deep sigh, releasing tension, anger, exhaustion, and maybe a little hatred out in one breath.

“I can’t keep doing this.”

She rolled herself out of bed, and stormed into her closet, grabbing a black duffel bag and furiously unzipping it.

\- - - - - - -

“So, if that’s true, and I know you can handle yourself and all your shit, then why did I leave without telling you? Why did I just tell you I trusted you more than I trusted my own men, but I didn’t trust you enough to let you come with me?”

\- - - - - - -

Poppy threw a pair of tennis shoes in her bag, and every article of black clothing that she owned. She threw her makeup in the bag, and personal hygiene items. She threw her hand tape, earbuds, water bottles, medicine, bandages, and a sewing kit into the bag. 

After she was satisfied that she had everything she needed, she headed into Goliath’s closet. She pushed back his clothes, revealing a number pad, and she typed the passcode in. The number pad beeped a few times and a section of the wall slid away, revealing an arsenal of weapons, some of which, naturally, were missing.

\- - - - - -

“I already know that no matter what I say or what I write, I can’t convince you to to stay, but I want you to know that I can’t risk my life or yours knowing you’re there.

“What I mean to say is that your life will always be more important than mine, and if you come with us, there’s no way I can save us both, knowing you’re there. It could end up killing both of us.”

\- - - - - - -

Poppy pulled on a thigh holster, sliding in a large hunting knife and a pistol. She grabbed a utility belt, buckling it around her waist, adorning it with grenades, smoke bombs, and a few smaller pistols.

She grabbed a larger hunting rifle and a few magazines as well as bullets for the smaller weapons before exiting the closet.

Going back into her own closet, she found black tights, boots, and a black long sleeved athletic shirt. Then, she picked up a ski mask, putting it under her arm. She grabbed a long, black coat and placed her loose weapons and accessories in another bag, swinging the black coat around her body and on to hide her weapons, and picking up both bags, heading for the door.

Next to the door, she dug through the myriad of car keys before selecting the one she wanted.

Slipping into the lobby, she stopped at the front desk.

“Mrs. Philistine! What a pleasure to see you! What can I do for you today?” The desk man asked.

\- - - - - - -

“I feel like we both know that the odds of my survival are slim, but I want to believe that I’ll make it back home to you because I don’t think I could ever be okay with not seeing you again or touching you again, and we both know that me coming back to haunt you as a ghost won’t cut it, so I have to make it out alive because I’m a selfish bastard who can’t live or even die without you.

\- - - - - - - - 

“I’m heading out of town to join Mr. Philistine on business. Only one other person may enter our apartment if we aren’t home, and his name is Tora. Please do not allow anyone else into our home without contacting us first.” Poppy explained.

“Of course, Mrs. Philistine.” The front desk man said.

“I’ll be taking my own car. No need to call for one. Please, enjoy the rest of your night.” She smiled, placing down two twenty dollar bills on the desk.

Poppy headed into the Papaver Parking Garage and took another elevator down into the private parking where their cars were kept. She pushed the unlock button and the headlights of a sleek, black Koenigsegg Agera blinked a few times. She opened the dihedral door, tossing her bag into the car and adjusted the rear view mirror with one last sigh.

\- - - - - - - -

“No matter what, I hope you know that I love you. You are the best part of my life and always will be. When I make it back from this, I will buy you that big fucking rock everyone keeps saying I should buy you and I’m marrying the shit out of you. 

“But most importantly, I want you to know that you are everything to me. Keep my bracelet and ring safe for me, okay?

I love you,

Tora”

\- - - - - - - -

Poppy felt the weight of the silver ring around her neck, the black bracelet too large for her to put on her wrist, had become a necklace to hold the ring in place, which pressed itself close to her heart.

“These dumbasses think they get to just go off and leave me here all helpless and waiting.” Poppy grumbled. The engine of the car roared to life as Poppy pulled the seatbelt over her shoulder.

“Yeah.” She smirked.

“Fuck that.”


	43. Phase One: Clearing the Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh man! I hope you guys like action because it’s about to go downnnnnn!

42  
Poppy knocked gently on the door to the apartment for the fourth time. She heard a loud clanging coming from inside the apartment along with the sound of multiple bottles tipping over.

“Piss off!” She heard the voice shout from the inside. Poppy grinned and knocked again. This time, she heard the footsteps coming to the door along with a string of obscenities being thrown at her from within the house as the door was thrown open.

“Ramsey.” She smiled sweetly. Ramsey took one look at her, his face went sheet white, and he promptly closed the door. Once the door was successfully closed between he and ghost Poppy, he looked at the bottle in his hand and mumbled,

“Which one of those fucks drugged my fuckin drink?”

The knock on the door sounded again, and he jumped, looking out the peephole.

“Go away, spirit!” He shouted. “Go fuckin haunt that bastard, Vincent! He fuckin did this to ya! Not me!”

“Har har.” Poppy wryly remarked. “Open the damned door, Ramsey.”

Timidly, he opened the door a crack, staring out at ghost Poppy all in her black getup, long black coat hanging down to her ankles, hair pulled back away from her face.

“I watched your head separate from your body.” Ramsey’s voice was shaking, and he made a gesture with his hands to demonstrate her head separating from her body. Poppy pushed the door open and Ramsey stumbled backward with a high pitched shriek.

“Get a hold of yourself, you drunk!” Poppy growled, pinching him.

“That fuckin hurt!” He whimpered.

“Well now you know I’m really here and alive.” Poppy crossed her arms. Ramsey rushed to shut the door.

“Decoy.” He smiled a thousand megawatt smile at her, wriggling his finger. “Fuckin brilliant, that is!”

“I need your help.” Poppy told him.

“You want me to help you kill Vincent because he’s coming after your man.” Ramsey nodded.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” Poppy smiled.

“Well, I’m fuckin in. That man’s a fuckin witch’s twat.” Ramsey turned away from her, rubbing the back of his head and stretching.

“A—a what?” Poppy snickered. He looked over his shoulder and shrugged,

“A witch’s twat.” 

At that, he looked down at the whiskey he was drinking, his nose wrinkling in disgust before he tossed the bottle into the corner of the room, the bottle shattering into a glorious array of amber and glass shards.

“Ah.” He picked up a bottle of vodka. “Better.”

He took a swig straight from the bottle.

“Know a way in?” Poppy asked. Ramsey started laughing at that.

“You want to go straight to Balthuman? Are you mental?” Ramsey roared with laughter and Poppy sulked at that.

“What if I did?” Poppy shrugged. “They’re expecting us to go around; to dodge him. But what if we just went straight there?”

Ramsey stroked his scruff in thought, nodding at that.

“Okay. I appreciate the boldness. And I do happen to know a way in, but it involves a bit of climbing.” He shrugged.

“Climbing?” Poppy glanced over at him. “What kind of climbing?”

***

“I knew you’d be back for more.” Mizuki grinned, her fingers grazing over Tora’s shoulder, and he rolled his eyes, trying to keep his temper in check.

“Yeah. Ya just know me so well.” The sarcasm in his voice was potent, and Mizuki seemed to eat it up. She sat in between the brothers, her attention mainly focused on Tora, but appreciating any attention Goliath was willing to give her too.

“What can I do for you?” Mizuki purred, looking down at her nails.

“I want to kill Vincent Balthuman.” Tora told her. In this instance, there was no beating around the bush. Mizuki looked up from her nails, stifling her laughter as she looked between the two of them for any trace of humor.

“Join the club.” Mizuki snorted, shaking her head. “In fact, I’m the fucking president of the Kill Balthuman Club, but even I know you can’t just walk up to the man, put a bullet in him, and walk away unscathed.”

“Who says you can’t?” Goliath pressed, and Mizuki swiveled around to look at him.

“How about all the ashes of the dudes that have tried fucking floating around Ares Street right now! Not to mention, if he dies what the allying gangs will do to us.” Mizuki told him. “I mean, we are a huge goddamn syndicate, but he would wipe us off the fucking planet.”

“He wouldn’t if everyone knew what he had.” Goliath mumbled cryptically. Tora glanced over at Mizuki, gauging her reaction. At first, she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, and then, she said,

“Alright, I’ll bite. What does he have?”

“Goliath’s notebook.” Tora told her, and he saw that she instantly recognized what he was talking about. “Dirt on every single syndicate in the area.”

Mizuki sat up a little straighter, looking at the both of them.

“You have proof?” She asked. Goliath pulled out his phone, flipping through his pictures to show the moment of delivery, a shot zoomed in on the notebook as it passed from hand to hand outside of Balthuman’s Office. Tora saw Mizuki’s jaw set in annoyance, and she pushed herself up off of the chair, whipping out her phone, dialing a number and putting it up to her ear. She spoke softly, mainly in Japanese, glancing over at the two of them every so often and nodding. She hung up the phone and said,

“You have our cooperation.”

Tora’s mouth curved up into a wry smile, and he shared a glance with Goliath, who asked with a smile,

“Anyone else we need to tell about this notebook whose been itching to take down Vincent Balthuman?”

*****

“When you said that your plan involved a bit of climbing,” Poppy said, glancing up at an abandoned, decrepit apartment complex, “this is NOT what I had in mind.”

“Well I’m sorry my plan doesn’t meet her majesty’s expectations. Turn around.” Ramsey snarked, and Poppy turned around as Ramsey tightened her climbing gear.

“What exactly are you attaching this to?” Poppy asked, nervously eyeing the crumbling building.

“Why this fine, stable building here, of course.” Ramsey grinned.

“And what happens when we get to the top?” Poppy asked.

“Ah, that’s the beauty of this building right next to us. See, this building provides me with just the right amount of cover to take out any unlucky bastards that might be on top of Balthuman’s building. That’s where this lovely lady comes in handy.” Ramsey patted his sniper rifle that was slung across his back.

“And, uh. What happens if you miss?” Poppy pressed. “I’m just asking because, you know, we will be hanging off the side of a building with pretty much no cover and no where to go if they decide to start shooting back.”

“Are you doubting my elite marksmanship skills?” Ramsey feigned a hurt expression, putting his hand to his chest. “Honestly, it’s like you don’t know me at all.”

“Well—technically, I don’t.” Poppy shrugged. He sighed, looking over at her in annoyance.

“Then let’s get this out of the way. Look sweetheart, I’m ex-SRR. I got kicked out for running drugs while on the job and profiting off of it. Not my proudest moment, but there it is.” He shrugged.

“SRR?” Poppy asked.

“Are you daft?” He asked, wildly irritated at her.

“No. I’m American.” Poppy sweetly grinned. He stared at her for a long moment before grumbling,

“Same thing.”

Poppy’s mouth hung open in shock, and he continued on,

“Special Reconnaissance Regiment. It’s sort of like your Navy Seals, yeah?”

“You’re ex-special ops?” Poppy balked at that information.

“No. I just think it makes for a clever story to tell at parties when—of course I am!” Ramsey snapped, tightening her climbing gear unnecessarily tight, and Poppy grunted in pain, trying to loosen around her lady parts.

“At least you don’t have balls that get squished by the harness.” He told her.

“Lucky me.” She remarked back.

“I’m going first. I’m going to free climb, and test the stability of the building before I attach you to it. You wait down here.” He told her, studying the building and pulling down an old fire escape ladder that let out a high pitched shriek of resistance as he heaved it to the ground.

***

Tora and Goliath got into the back of the dark tinted SUV alongside Mizuki, who had been on her cell phone near constantly since agreeing to cooperate.

“Sorry to have to do this, but I’m going to need you to wear these.” Mizuki told them, handing them both black hoods.

“Understood.” Tora nodded, and he and Goliath both put them on over their heads. When they were able to take them off, they found themselves in a nondescript part of a shipping yard. Getting out of the car, they followed Mizuki to one of the units, as she pulled back a panel off of the side of said unit, revealing a keypad. She typed in a several numbers, hit enter and replaced the panel, hearing the click of the shipping container opening.

One inside, they descended downstairs, automatic lights cutting on as they walked deeper into the underground, the sound of water dripping from the nearby port a constant source of ambiance. 

They walked for, what seemed like, about a mile before reaching elevator doors. Mizuki put her fingerprint on a panel next to the door and the doors slid open. Down they went, and when the doors opened again, they seemed to be in a lavish building:

Large cut white marble floors stretched for a long way, LCD floor to ceiling screens showing, what seemed to be, an tranquil outside scene. Geometric wooden designs were situated over the screens, making it seem like a sort of window shade. Bamboo sofas sitting back to back adorned the middle of the room, white cushions adding to the clean feeling in the room. Somewhere in the distance, a waterfall could be heard gently falling into a pool of water in another room. In the very center of the room, a large zen garden with a huge stone in the middle of it quietly sat, faint relaxing music playing from somewhere in the room.

“Welcome to Yamamoto Headquarters.” Her voice was low, respectful as she led them through the lobby, taking a right down a large white marble hallway. On each side, rice panel doors were shut, some illuminated from the inside, some not. 

One of the doors slid open, and out walked a scantily clad woman, a large dragon tattoo spread across her back, heels clacking across the floor as she slowly sauntered away, her long kimono dragging across the ground, wiping the corner of her mouth and making direct eye contact with Goliath, who quickly looked away. Inside of the room, Tora and Goliath caught a glimpse of a clan member being serviced by several women at the same time.

“As you can see, our men are treated very well here.” Mizuki smiled. “As are the women of the clan, I assure you.”

She led them down the hallway, stopping at the second to last door and sliding it open. Inside, two women waited near a pair of metal sliding doors. The women bowed to Mizuki and turned to enter a code into the wall, the two doors sliding open, revealing a large arsenal of weapons.

“I’m not sure what, if anything, you’ve brought with you. Please outfit yourselves now while I organize your team.” Mizuki smiled, and she turned away from them, leaving the room. Tora and Goliath turned to each other and smiled, clearly liking what they saw much more than what they brought.

***

The crashing of metal and brick caused Poppy to jump, moving quickly out of the way. Ramsey let out a high pitched scream as he dangled from the seventh story off of a loose balcony, and Poppy snorted in laughter.

“You’re laughing, aren’t ya, ya little tart!” Ramsey’s voice was tight as he pulled himself up. His upper body strained against the weight of his lower body as he pulled himself off.

“Who me?” Poppy innocently responded. “Never.”

“Need to cut back on the alcohol.” Ramsey grumbled aloud to himself. He turned, dusting just hands off and glanced up at the remaining climbing he had to do, putting his hands on his hips and taking in a deep breath.

“It’s going to get dark soon.” Poppy noted.

“My god.” Ramsey spat. “We’ve got a right rocket scientist on our hands.”

Poppy rolled her eyes, scratching the side of her head with her middle finger.

“Look, love. The cover of nightfall helps keep us concealed when we do eventually pop those little bastards off the roof and when we make the leap to the Balthuman building.” He explained.

“I’m sorry. Did you say ‘the leap?’ As in, we are JUMPING to onto the roof of the building?” Poppy balked. Ramsey scratched his head and stared at her incomprehensibly. 

“Just—don’t say anything. I know whatever comes out of your mouth is bound to be a smartass remark.” Poppy sighed. He raised his eyebrows, turning back to the building and continuing his climb, grumbling aloud to himself,

“What? We gonna take a bloody lift? Just walk right into the lobby with a fucking dead girl like, ‘Oh hey, mates. We’re just getting in the lift to go fucking murder our prick of a boss. Carry on.’”

He continued grumbling for the duration of his climb as Poppy cursed herself for saying something to him to begin with.

****

Tora and Goliath stood at the head of the table next to Mizuki. Nearly thirty men were in the room decked out in black tactical vests, (adorned with various types of distractors, like flash bangs, smoke bombs, as well as lethal gear, like grenades, filled of course with ammunition for the weapons they carried), black tactical pants and boots. Each of them was outfitted with a mic for communication beneath their black balaclavas. 

“Let’s do communication checks now.” Mizuki called out. Tactically gloved hands rose to their ears, and one at a time, Tora heard,

“Alpha one, check.”

“Beta one, check.”

“Charlie one, check.”

Tora felt somewhat impressed by how clean the operation was, knowing that, just like Balthuman had, Yamamoto seemed to have men and women who were heavily militarily experienced. Once the mic check finished, Mizuki called out,

“Tactical watch check.”

Everyone slid their sleeves back, checking the functionality and battery life of their smart watches.

“Weapons check.”

Mizuki clearly had a protocol she followed to make sure her men were as safe as possible before sending them out. After about an hour of double checks, Mizuki called,

“Team leads, come see me for transportation assignments.”

Six men approached the front and Mizuki handed out various sets of keys to each of the group leads, who bowed to her before assembling their teams and heading out of the room until only Mizuki, Tora, Goliath, and one team remained. Mizuki motioned to the team lead standing with them, saying,

“Tora, Goliath, this is Yurei, our most experienced team lead and a seasoned veteran of the Japanese Special Forces group. Listen to him, and you’ll live through the night.”

Tora and Goliath shook Yurei’s hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Yurei grumbled, his English heavily coated with a Japanese accent.

“Can someone bring us up to speed on what’s going on?” Goliath asked. Mizuki nodded, and motioned for Yurei to proceed,

“The parking garage for Balthuman Enterprises is below street level. There are several access tunnels into the garage. That’s our entry point. From there, we have a group assigned to take down the security systems: cameras, radios, you name it. We will only have about a ten minute window before those come back on. We will need to get on the elevator, which can take us to the lobby. 

“Once inside the lobby, the assault begins. There will be four teams on the ground. Our team will proceed to the third floor. The three other teams will take out floors one and two, and we will have a team stationed in the stairwell, the artery of our assault.

“Teams will report once floors are totally clear. In the unlikely situation that we don’t hear from a team, one of the other teams will be assigned to clear said floor. We will repeat this process until we reach the Balthuman main office.

“As you know, Vincent has a panic room. He takes an elevator from the top floor to an undisclosed location in the building. Naturally, blueprints won’t show where this location is. We breach his office and place a hacking device on the elevator, then we radio to the technology team, who will get us into the elevator and take us down to the safe room.

“Once in the safe room, it’s likely we will have to clear a few more people before we get to Vincent himself.”

Tora raised his eyebrows, impressed with the thorough nature of the plan and the confidence of its leader. Goliath looked over at Tora and remarked,

“I mean. Yeah. That’s—that’s exactly what I was thinking. It’s like—you read my mind or something.”

****

“Alright, girly, come on up.” Ramsey shouted. Poppy did not have a good feeling about how this was going to go. At all. But it was too late to back out now. She tugged on the rope, and began her climb, following Ramsey’s lead.

“Cock to sparrow.” She heard Ramsey mumbling, talking to his wrist.

“Who—are you talking to?” She was convinced for a moment that he really had lost his marbles because there was no reply from what she heard, but he continued talking to his wrist.

“I’m in position. Red is getting into position as we speak.” He glanced down at Poppy. “Uh—very slowly, but she is getting into position.”

“Ramsey, who are you talking to?” Poppy grunted as she climbed. He smirked,

“Did you really think I was going on a suicide mission with the likes of you and you alone?”

“YOU INVITED OTHER PEOPLE?” Poppy all but screamed, letting go of the rope by accident, which snapped into place, jolting her body with a harsh crack, and sending bits of brick and dust flying down into her face.

“What? You think we’re the only ones who want to take down Vincent Balthuman?” Ramsey snorted. “Girly, the whole organization has turned on him.”

Poppy’s mouth nearly curled into a devilish smile at hearing that, but she restrained herself.

“If you trust them, then the more the merrier.” She grinned, and continued her ascent to the top. Once at the top, Ramsey handed her a mic with pair of noise reduction headphones. She put them on.

“Alright, lads, there’s a lady present now. Watch your language, yeah?” Ramsey grinned.

“Who is it?” She heard a heavy Nigerian voice asked. “You?”

She heard about three others chuckle on the mic.

“Very original, panther.” Ramsey flatly grumbled, and he began setting up his sniper rifle, lying on his stomach as he did do. “Could one of you pricks give us a roof headcount?”

“Five on the roof.” Someone with a heavy Bostonian accent remarked into the headset. 

“One for each of us.” She heard a thick Spanish accent mention. “Who would have ever known there would be five of them? It’s like we work there or something.”

Poppy rolled her eyes, getting her rifle off of her back. Meekly she murmured,

“Ramsey. I’m not really all that good with a rifle. I’ve only really practiced with pistols.” 

“I’m shocked you’ve even practiced with pistols, love.” Ramsey grinned.

“What happens if I miss? I don’t want to ruin this whole thing because I’m not—“

“Take it easy, Red.” She heard an Australian accent say.

“Jesus. Is there someone from every continent here?” The Nigerian asked.

“Nearly.” The Spaniard remarked back.

“So you’re telling me the whole world hates Balthuman then?” The Bostonian wryly remarked and everyone on the headset chuckled.

“They would if they knew him.” Ramsey grinned. “Fucking bastard.”

“Back to the issue at hand here, Red. There are four other of us with trained eyes watching the rooftop. We are all aware of where everyone is. If you miss, we will take him out.” The Australian told Poppy.

“A word of advice though.” The Spaniard cut in. “Aim higher than you think you need to. When you shoot, the wind will play a factor and the bullet will naturally drop. Right now, there isn’t much of a breeze, so you don’t have to worry much about the bullet getting blown too far to the side.”

“All good points.” Ramsey grinned. “Also, love, this isn’t like the video games. We don’t need a headshot to kill him.”

Poppy nodded, her head jerking more than she meant for it to, still absolutely nervous.

“Alright, Red. Let’s get your gun set up.” Ramsey told her. She slid her rifle off of her back and gave it to Ramsey, who attached a silencer to the end of it, like his had, and then motioned her to lie on the ground next to him.

“Okay. Deep breath, Red. You’re going to shoot first. Once your shot goes off, the rest of us will shoot.” Ramsey explained.

“Yeah. No pressure or anything.” Poppy sarcastically retorted, wriggling around to get into position.

“Just don’t shoot the building, and we’ll be fine.” Ramsey grinned. “Now. Get him into your sights, head in the middle of the crosshairs.”

Poppy did as she was told, finding his head in the middle of the crosshairs.

“Now, let’s go ahead and aim about forty inches above the head.” Ramsey told her and she moved the rifle up about forty inches above the head.

“Whenever you’re ready, exhale, and take the shot. We will follow suit.” Ramsey told her, getting into position himself. Poppy felt a nervous lump rise in her throat as her finger trembled over the trigger of her rifle. After what felt like forever, she exhaled, and closed her eyes, squeezing the trigger. The rifle pulsed back against her shoulder, the loud roaring reduced to a simple “few” sound as the bullet exited the barrel, followed by a chorus of four other shots.

She heard someone hysterically laughing into the mic as she opened her eyes, realizing that she only grazed the top of the lookout’s head, leaving a bullet trail in between his tall hair, and another shot sounded, bringing the man down.

“Holy shit! You left a skid mark on his fuckin head!” She heard the Australian cackle, still laughing hysterically into the mic, the others laughing as well.

Ramsey grinned, muting his mic for a moment,

“For your first attempt at a sniping kill, you didn’t do too bad, girly. Keep your eyes open next time, and you’ll hit him.”

“Alright, all targets verified down. Let’s move in.” The Nigerian said, and Poppy and Ramsey collected their materials. Ramsey pulled her rifle back together, handing it to her, and she slung it over her back.

“Go ahead and unbuckle that.” Ramsey told Poppy, pointing to her climbing gear. “We are going to head the last little way up to the roof.”

Poppy nodded, following Ramsey up to the roof, where the two of them got down on their stomachs to avoid being seen. Ramsey pulled out a pair of binoculars, scouting out the location again.

“Alright. We are about four buildings away from Balthuman.” He handed Poppy the binoculars. “Follow my instructions so I can map out our trail for you.”

Poppy trained the binoculars on the building next to them, which was a short hop away. From there, they would be taking a running leap onto a fire escape, climbing about six stories to the roof of the adjacent building. After that, it would be a short hop to the next building, followed by a long horizontal leap to the Balthuman building. They would have to move quickly before Balthuman’s men realized the roof lookouts were down.

“I’m a little worried about the last leap to Balthuman’s.” Poppy explained. “My legs are pretty short. I’m not sure I could make the distance.”

“I’ll go first. You’ll have a rope attached to you, so if you don’t make it, I can pull you up.” Ramsey told her. He took this moment to pull is balaclava over his head, adjusting his gear to make jumping a little easier. Poppy’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head at his explanation, but, she supposed, there must not have been another way.

“Alright.” Poppy breathed out a nervous sigh, pulling her balaclava on over her head. “Let’s get this over with.”


	44. Phase Two: Infiltration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT’S GOING DOWN! I’M YELLING TIMBERRRRRRR!
> 
> .....
> 
> .....
> 
> .....
> 
> I’ll stop.

The running leap to the fire escape had all but knocked the wind out of Poppy as she stumbled for a moment, trying to catch her breath.

“You alright, love?” Ramsey asked over the mic.

“Yeah.” Poppy groaned. “Just—Uh—landed really wrong there. Oh god.”

She heaved herself back up, climbing the rest of the way to the roof and following Ramsey’s lead across the last two buildings. All they had left was the long leap to Balthuman Enterprises. In the distance, she could see the three other men had already made it and were patrolling the roof for the time being, waiting for their arrival. 

“Here.” Ramsey handed her a rope. “Tie this around your waist. I’m going first, and once I make it, I’ll be waiting for you. If you don’t make the jump, we’ll get you pulled up quickly.”

Poppy nodded, and Ramsey took a few steps back before taking a running leap across the six foot gap, landing roughly on the Balthuman rooftop, and rolling. He popped back up simply, dusting himself off. 

Poppy slowly shuffled to the side of the building looking down. She felt like she wanted to cry, vomit, and pass out all at the same time seeing that six foot distance and the long way down.

“Stop fucking looking down.” Ramsey scolded her.

“I—I don’t know if I can do this.” Poppy nearly burst into tears, a panic attack creeping in on her.

“Either you take the jump, or I’ll pull you over the edge and you can swing your ass over here. Your choice.” Ramsey growled.

“Yo, let’s go, Red. If you were gonna be a pussy, you shouldn’t have come here.” Boston grumbled. Poppy closed her eyes, getting herself together. Boston was right: now was not the time to back out and get scared. It was too late for that.

Poppy took six giant steps back, and then her legs were moving at a dead sprint: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, step up, and jump. Time seemed to slow down as she floated through the air. She watched the other three turn to look at her as she flailed through the air. Poppy saw the edge of the building slowly slipping away as she thought in immediate panic,

“Oh shit. I’m not going to make it.”

She was about two feet short, reaching up for the ledge, her fingertips grazing it and missing as she slammed into the concrete side of the building, a sharp pain radiating through her shoulder.

“Shit! Red! Heave! Heave, you fuckers!” She heard Ramsey snarl, and she felt herself pulled up and over the edge, flopping over the side and onto the roof like a fish out of water. She lay there for a moment, her eyes wide, stunned that she had actually jumped off a building, she didn’t make it, but she was still fucking alive. 

“Damn. That was so badass!” She thought, grinning as she sat up, the adrenaline rushing through her also giving her a rush of endorphins.

“Oh shit.” She heard the Nigerian say, and he pointed to Poppy’s shoulder with the barrel of his gun. Everyone turned to look at her, and the Spaniard remarked,

“Yeah. That’s a dislocated shoulder.”

He set his gun down, kneeling down next to Poppy and examining her shoulder.

“Don’t scream.” The Spaniard told her. “This is going to hurt.”

“What’s going to—“ she didn’t even get the words out before the Spaniard suddenly jerked her shoulder violently back into place, and Poppy could’ve sworn she saw stars when it happened as she bit down on her shirt, stifling a scream. The pain was nearly unbearable, and she wanted to cry, but instead, she got the rest of the scream out into the fabric and whimpered,

“Thanks.”

“Boston, head to the box. Take out the security system. We don’t need cameras on us.” Ramsey ordered, and Boston moved quickly toward the back of the stairwell, hidden from sight. He took only a moment before jogging back, giving the thumbs up.

“Let’s move.” Ramsey said, motioning to the rooftop door. “There are five of us and many more of them. Stealth is what we are going for. Don’t use a gun unless it has a silencer, and even then only use it if you have to.”

“Red,” the Bostonian said, “we’re talking a hunting knife to the throat or shoulder. If ya can’t reach, slice low, then move in for the kill.”

Poppy nodded, trying to grip her knife against the pain, and they moved to the door, standing on either side.

“Most of these floors are long hallways forming the shape of a square. We will have to clear each room to make sure there aren’t others on this floor for our safety.” Ramsey explained.

“Panther, take point.” Ramsey ordered, and the Nigerian moved quickly and quietly, heading down a set of stairs toward the first landing, the others following closely, Poppy in the middle, Ramsey bringing up the rear as he gently closed the door.

Panther came upon a door with a long, narrow window. He looked through the window, studying the scene.

“Two immediate left, two right, three at the far end of the hallway.” 

He waited a moment, watching for the right opportunity to move in.

“Let’s move.” Panther said.

In they went, each of them moving into the hall, Panther, Spaniard, and Boston going right; Poppy and Ramsey left. Poppy’s heart was racing out of her chest as they moved. Ramsey put a hand up to halt them as they came to a closed door. Ramsey opened the door quietly, revealing a dark supply closet. In the two of them went to confirm the room was clear.

“Why not skip the doors?” Poppy whispered.

“We don’t know what’s behind them.” Ramsey explained. “We could have our backs to the door when it opens and be exposed to more potential danger. We have to clear the rooms first before moving on.”

Ramsey listened at the door, then gently opened it again, heading down the hallway to the next closed door. Once there, he eased the door a crack, hearing a light conversation taking place. Ramsey motioned for Poppy to stop, then whispered,

“Red—We’re bursting in in 3, 2, 1.”

In he went quickly, Poppy following up, closing the door. Ramsey had taken down one of the two men in the break room. Poppy ran at the other, narrowly avoiding a hit to the face as Ramsey kicked his feet out from under them and Poppy delivered a swift blow to the neck, wiping the blade on her pants, before returning it to its holster.

“Two more rooms on this side of the hallway.” Ramsey told her. They went back to the door, opening it a crack to check that the hallway was clear, then out they went into the hallway, crouched low against the wall. Suddenly, the door to the last remaining door opened, and they froze, Ramsey’s hand gently going for his pistol. A man reading a document exited the room, and turned away from Poppy and Ramsey, walking down the hall in the opposite direction. Ramsey gently took out his silenced pistol and shot him in the head, effectively eliminating the threat. Then, he moved in quickly, pulling the body into the break room and leaving it there as Poppy followed suit.

They moved to the third room, opening to an empty office. Then, they moved onto the fourth room and final. The room was already open a crack from the man who exited.

“Red. Pistol out. There’s a meeting going on in here. Ten or more men.” Ramsey whispered. Poppy pulled her pistol out, nodding.

“Breach in 3, 2, 1.”

Time felt like it slowed down again for the second time that day as they rushed into the room, and Poppy watched the scene unfold:

Eight people were seated at a log rectangular table: two at the ends, three on either side. Behind each of the three on either side, there were three bodyguards against the window, two on the side away from the window.

Ramsey went left, forcing Poppy right. She held her gun up, firing off two shots at the bodyguards closest to them, and down they went. Ramsey fired off three accurate head, neck, or throat shots, and the bodyguards slid against the window, a trail of blood following them down. 

Poppy stepped over the two bodyguards, and seeing one was still alive, aimed and directed a kill shot to the head. 

Those at the table rushed to find a weapon, whether it be a pencil or a paper weight, or slid under the desk in a futile attempt to save themselves. Some tried to dial for help from their phones, but their trembling hands wouldn’t allow them to do so in time. The room was cleared in a matter of seconds once the guards were down.

“Check them.” Ramsey told her, and Poppy did, going through each of them to make sure they were dead.

“Clear.” She whispered.

“Clear.” He responded. 

Poppy knew she was going to be haunted by these deaths for a long time to come. She never was a killer. She could barely stomach the thought of killing a bug, but a human being?

Even though she had already brutally killed at least one person and a few others, it still bothered her, but she knew if she wanted to live, she was going to have to shut that piece of her humanity off.

“Alright. We need to head to the other side.” Ramsey told her. “We move out in 3, 2—“

But he didn’t make it to one because suddenly a loud blaring alarm sounded overhead, the lights in the building turning off, replaced with red flashing lights.

“Shit.” Ramsey seethed. “Everyone fall back into a cleared room now. Barricade yourselves in, and wait for a breach.”

“Copy.” She heard all three respond. Ramsey switched the mic to mute, and turned to Poppy.

“Someone set off the alarms. They know we’re here. We have to shelter in place and wait for the onslaught. Moving through the halls is too risky.” He told her. “Have your weapon on the door. Stealth is out the window since they know we’re here now.”

“Shit.” Poppy whispered. 

“Help me move this.” Ramsey said, motioning to the large table, which they soundlessly tipped over and got behind. From there, they stacked chairs in front of the door, moving whatever office equipment they could find to barricade the room.

“What now?” Poppy asked.

“Now.” Ramsey sighed. “We wait.”

* * * * * * * 

“Shit.” Tora growled, dodging a bullet behind a concrete pillar. Their assault had not gone unnoticed as they made their way into the lobby. 

“Black team. Hold position.” He heard Yurei growl into the mic as each of them held behind a pillar, an onslaught of gunfire, yelling, and screaming going on in the lobby.

“Red team. Report.” 

On their headphones, Tora and Goliath heard little bouts of gunfire from the second floor.

“We moved to our position. We are holding on the second floor. Minor injuries. Floor almost swept.”

“Blue team. Report.”

“In position on stairwell. Stairwell is clear for the moment.”

“Green team. Report.”

“In position in the lobby. One dead. One injured.”

“Black team. Holding position in lobby as well. Lots of resistance in the parking garage. We weren’t able to make our target floor. Green team, advise when lobby is clear.” Yurei barked into his mic. They waited a few seconds more before they heard.

“Green team. Lobby swept and clear.”

“Black team. Move.”

Tora, Goliath, Yurei, and two other men who went by Eel and Scorpio moved quickly through the lobby, where Tora took in the scene:

The large crystal chandelier than hung from the lobby ceiling flickered on and off, the red lights casting eerie patterns off of the crystals.

The front desk had several bullet holes in it, marble counter tops split in two, two receptionists dead behind the desk. One dead over the desk, a trail of blood flooding down the front of the desk and pooling on the floor below him. Tora guessed it was one of the receptionists who pushed the panic button.

On the terra-cotta floors was a bloodbath: pools, patterns, and splatters of blood covered every surface, and over a dozen men lay dead in those bloody patterns in various positions, some recognizable, others little more than bodies and gaping holes where their faces once were.

The darkly tinted windows were cracked from bullet holes, but the light did not shine through the holes since none of the bullets weren’t able to penetrate the glass, seeing as though most of the building was outfitted with bulletproof glass windows.

Tora followed his team toward the stairwell.

“What about the elevators?” Goliath whispered into the mic.

“Elevators won’t be working since the panic button has been pressed.” Tora remarked. “We have to climb our way up.”

“And go into these long hallways with them knowing we’re here?” Goliath hissed, upset at the prospect of walking in to a firestorm.

“We don’t have much of a choice.” Yurei calmly stated. “We will be fine.”

“Oh, ‘we’ll be fine,’ he says. It’s not like there are a hundred trained assassins that—“

Yurei whirled on Goliath, causing him to stumble backward into Tora, who caught him.

“If you don’t want to be here, go home. The door is back that way, and the lobby is cleared thanks to my fucking teams who are putting their lives on the line for your fucking agenda. We don’t need you bringing everyone else down with you.” Yurei growled. “Our mission is clear, and I will see it through even if that means I have to do it without you.”

Goliath’s eyes widened at that, and Tora pushed him back into his feet, happy that somebody actually put his smartass in his place. Yurei turned back around, getting onto the mic.

“Move to your second targets. Black team, taking the third. Green and red, the fourth and fifth. Clear all floors. Report in ten.”

And from there, they moved quickly to the next set of floors.

*******

Poppy and Ramsey sat back against the table, both silent, waiting. For once, Ramsey seemed to be deep in thought.

“Hey.” Poppy nudged him. “You okay?”

Ramsey glanced over at her, a soft smile pulling his eyes up into a squint beneath the balaclava before looking back down.

“I was there—at Akuma’s initiation.” He told her, and Poppy nodded, understanding that this was probably the first time he had been sober or sit silent long enough to process his grief, and now that they’re ere in the middle of a waiting game, he was forced to confront his demons.

“They wouldn’t tell us who the sacrifice was. They wouldn’t even let us see you. I think they knew there were a lot of people who would try to stop the initiation if they knew.” Ramsey explained. On the other end of the mic, the Nigerian, the Spaniard, and the Bostonian were holed up inside of another office, behind a desk as well, listening to Ramsey as he talked. The Nigerian glanced over at the Spaniard, who was picking the erasers off of the pencils that were on the desk and tossing them on the ground, the Bostonian putting his head back against the overturned desk and closing his eyes.

Poppy put her head back against the table, listening.

“So, when they did drag you out onto the floor and people saw you—I went absolutely bonkers. I don’t remember a lot of what I said or did. To be honest, I sort of blacked out once I figured out it was you. It was like—if I had a little sister and they were dragging her out there to die. I just lost it.” He sighed. “Anyway, next thing I knew, this group of people was holding me down on the ground. They had the good sense to lock the doors, and someone finally let me go, but I was going mad trying to get in. I was kicking the doors, punching—Anything I could do to get in.” 

Ramsey shook his head recalling it.

“Everyone kind of just stood back and let me rage. There were these little windows I could see through, and I tried to break them, but they wouldn’t budge. And when they executed you, I—I just...” he ran his fingers through his buzz cut hair again, ruffling it.

“After you—you—I spent a lot of time sort of going through the motions with Tora. Sure, a lot of us tried to get him out of his own head, but I’ve never seen a man so bloody affected by something.” Ramsey told her, and she looked down at her hands.

“He barely spoke to anyone, showed zero emotion. I mean, he was this shell of a man, and he spent all his time looking for Goliath. He was convinced it was Goliath who sold you out. Day, night. He was relentless. I don’t think he ever slept, barely ate.” Ramsey said.

“And I felt it too. That’s why I worked with him. I kept hoping he would tell me he wanted to kill Vincent for what he done to you, but it seemed like it just made him work harder for Vincent—like Vincent finally got into his head.” He explained.

“So when he said he found Goliath, I was the first one who jumped up to go with him, but he said he was only taking Akuma. I mean, I was right furious! Goliath was the one who sold you out and he was allied with the man who fucking killed you?” Ramsey scoffed.

“And then there’s this sudden change of plans. We get news that Tora is coming for Vincent, and I knew something happened to him. That whatever Goliath said had finally knocked some sense into him or something. I never imagined that he found you.” He explained.

“And then you just fuckin show up at my door after all this time. Alive. And I knew that all you had to do was say the words. Tell me you wanted to take him out, and that was it. Even if it was just the two of us. I was going.” Ramsey explained, and the two of them suddenly went silent.

“Yeah, that’s a real lovely story.” Panther remarked over the mic. “But I think we need to get moving. I’m starting to think the panic button wasn’t triggered because of us.”

Ramsey scratched the back of his head in an embarrassed fashion, and they both stood, heading for the door.

“Hey.” Poppy called and Ramsey stopped, turning. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him in for a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Better get off me before I start thinking ya like me or something. Already have enough trouble beating the ladies off with a stick.” Ramsey grumbled, and Poppy giggled at that remark, falling in line behind Ramsey.

***

Yurei slammed against the wall, reloading his weapon.

“That bastard nicked me in the the shoulder.” He breathed, and Tora nodded. 

“There’s a room here that has two windows parallel to each other in it. I’ll take the shot through there. All I need you to do is distract him long enough that I can safely take the shot.” Tora told him. Yurei nodded. Tora squatted down, getting his rifle set up and checking the clip. 

“Ghost this is Scorpio. Scorpio and Blue are locked into a corner. Eel is down. Multiple assailants. Requesting some assistance.” Tora heard Scorpio say. He patted Yurei’s shoulder, nodding, and Yurei tossed a flash bang out into the hallway. Tora shot up, breaking the glass of the window with his elbow, taking aim and he fired a clean shot, taking out one target, before firing a second and taking out his second.

“Both targets down.” Tora said, and they pushed forward, heading to help Scorpio and Goliath, who were trapped in a corner. They made their way around the corner quickly, coming up on a group of three men with their backs turned to them. Yurei took them out with a silenced pistol quickly before Scorpio and Goliath advanced on the second corner, taking out the last of the assailants, and moving back toward their team.

“Bull, where are we in terms of the target location?” Yurei asked as they moved back toward the stairwell.

“Two floors away.” Tora responded.

“Blue, red, green teams on black team location. Sending now.” Yurei grumbled into the mic.

“Bull. What’s the expectation for the target’s location?” Yurei turned to Tora, checking his equipment as he listened, while everyone else did the same.

“Most of the lieutenants will be on the target and with him in his panic room. There will be more experienced men in the office. Most of the population will be concentrated in the office. All the men we are looking at right now are—were new recruits—more disposable than the guys in the office, which is why he grouped the best of the best together.” Tora explained.

Behind them and in front of them, what was left of the other three teams assembled. There were about fifteen remaining men including Tora and Goliath.

“Let’s clear out the final two floors.” Yurei said to his team and they all mumbled in assent.

******

“Let me get this straight.” The Bostonian growled sarcastically as they stood just outside entrance to the top floor stairwell. “We are just supposed to fucking go charging in to Vincent motherfucking Balthuman’s office, where there’s already a team of about forty people waiting for us in the main office alone much less his panic room?”

Ramsey scratched his scruff over his balaclava and then nodded,

“Mmmm yeah! Sounds about right!”

“How are we supposed to even survive that?” The Nigerian balked, looking at Ramsey. Everyone stood quietly for a moment, waiting for someone to speak up. Poppy slowly raised her hand.

“Red. Why are you fucking raising your hand?” The Spaniard asked. “Just—just put it down.”

Poppy slowly put her hand down.

“What do you have?” The Spaniard asked. 

“Uh. I once watched a movie where these guys were going into a room. And there was a bunch of other guys in the room, and they just sort of lightly tossed a grenade into the room.” Poppy told them. Ramsey shrugged, looking at the rest of the team, who nodded.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” Ramsey said. “Any objections?”

“What happens if the grenade blows a hole in the floor or the ceiling? Couldn’t that threaten the structural integrity of the building?” The Spaniard asked.

“Ah, who the fuck cares. It won’t take the whole building down. Maybe just a few floors.” The Bostonian grumbled.

“Grenade it is then. And since you suggested it, Red. You get to do the honors. The rest of us will throw flash bangs in to get them disoriented.” Ramsey nodded. “Let’s do it!”

********

“Everyone get ready to breach the target’s floor on my mark.” Yurei grumbled, the team lined up in the stairwell outside of Balthuman’s floor. “Three, two—“

A large, rumbling blast caused the team to brace for a moment before Yurei got to one. Everyone looked around at each other for a moment before Goliath squeaked,

“What. The fuck. Was that?”

The group went silent for a moment, listening for any movement when suddenly, the water sprinklers came on in the building, soaking the group as they stood in the stairwell.

“Sounded like a bomb.” Yurei mentioned. “Sprinklers on tells me it was either a bomb or a grenade.”

“Why would they be throwing grenades?” Scorpio inquired. 

“Because it seems like another group may have gotten word about the notebook like we did.” Yurei glanced over his shoulder at Goliath, who looked behind him before realizing that Yurei was staring at him.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“Because you’re the one who wrote the fucking notebook.” Yurei turned his body fully to face him. “Who else did you make a deal with?”

“No one.” Goliath told him. Yurei trained his weapon on Goliath along with the rest of the men on the team except Tora.

“Come on. We’re in this together.” Tora growled. “I’ve been with him the whole time, and the first group we went to was you. We haven’t had time to tell anyone else. Ya would’ve caught us if we tried.”

“Teams, stand down.” Mizuki’s voice growled over the mic. “Blue is telling the truth.”

Yurei growled in frustration at that.

“Yellow team is watching the feed. It’s not another clan attack. There’re only five of them.” Mizuki reporter to them.

“Five?” Yurei sounded simultaneously impressed and annoyed at the same time.

“They breached the top floor together from the roof. Looking at the feed, they barricaded themselves in the room when the alarms went off, thinking the alarms were because of their breach. They’ve been there until recently when they moved onto the target’s floor, wiping out the security detail in the hall, and breaching then office with flash bangs and a grenade.” Mizuki explained. “Whoever they are, they are a highly organized team.”

****

“Who the fuck threw the flash bang out first! I told you to wait!” Ramsey growled, still disoriented from the flash to the face. “Panther, it was you, wasn’t it, you fuck!”

“No. You said one! I threw on one!” The Nigerian remarked.

“You threw on two, you idiot! Did you not learn your numbers in primary school?” Ramsey growled.

“If we are being technical, he threw on one and a half.” The Spaniard shrugged. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Poppy tried being the voice of reason. “What matters is, the grenade detonated and the people in there are dead.”

“We don’t know that.” The Bostonian remarked. “Because we closed the doors when it detonated.”

Silence followed that.

“Then let’s check, shall we?” Ramsey asked, making a grand sweeping gesture toward the door. The Bostonian adjusted his tactical gloves, turned the knob, and let the door swing open as everyone else trained their weapons on the room. Poppy’s mouth gaped open at the scene before her.

The entire room was essentially in shreds, black scorch marks on the wall. The fluorescent lighting hung from its wires from the ceiling, flickering off and on with a persistent electrical buzzing, Vincent’s desk blasted to shreds and pushed against the wall, his desk chair a melted pile of mush.

Against the window, where the two chairs and the window once sat, a hole had been blasted through the window, where the grenade had hit, the chairs and table nowhere to be seen, the crystal decanter in shards on the floor. The seating area, where Tora sat, watching Poppy prove her business prowess only weeks before was now a charred heap of nothingness.

But worst of all was the smell of burned flesh, bodies strewn across the floor, some intact, most in pieces. 

“Check the bodies.” Ramsey quietly instructed. The five of them spread out, moving into the room, checking pulses. Every once in a while, someone would shoot a survivor with a silenced weapon. Poppy moved through, trying to keep herself together with the horrific scene playing out in front of her. She stepped on something hard, moving her foot and seeing a chess piece beneath it. She picked it up to examine it, turning a black Queen around in her fingers. Then, she placed it in her pocket, a memento of this event.

“Are we clear?” Ramsey asked.

“Clear.” A chorus of solemn voices came in through the mic.

“Let’s get read to move on the panic room.” Ramsey grumbled, and they all turned to go toward the panic room before a barrel pointed to the back of Ramsey’s head, the rest of Ramsey’s team whirling around to face fifteen armed men to their five as they heard a cool voice, Yurei’s, inquire,

“Just who—the fuck—are you?”

Ramsey turned, hands up. 

“Weapons down.” The Nigerian gently commanded, and Poppy, the Spaniard, and the Bostonian put their weapons down.

“Kick them away.” Yurei ordered, and they did as they were requested. “On the ground.”

The five of them knelt down, getting on their stomachs as they were instructed to do.

“Bull, Blue. Masks off.” Yurei instructed, nodding over to Ramsey’s team.

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.” Poppy’s heart was beating out of her chest as she watched two large men start at the end with the Nigerian, pulling his balaclava off. Then, they moved to the Bostonian. Then the Spaniard. Finally, the two men situated themselves over Ramsey and Poppy, the taller of the two situated over Poppy. He pulled her up roughly, the shorter of the two yanking off Ramsey’s balaclava. Poppy’s captor jumped in response, his deep, gravelly voice shot out,

“Ramsey?”

Ramsey glanced over at Poppy’s captor and grinned,

“Tora? Is that you, mate?”

And Poppy’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest, realizing who was holding her as she gulped and whimpered to herself,

“Aw fuck.”


	45. Phase Three: Annihilation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...we are nearing the end. 
> 
> Before this chapter starts, I really hope this lives up to your expectations. I know a lot of you were really looking forward to Vincent’s death, sooo I hope you guys are okay with how everything goes down. If not...I’M SORRY 😭😭😭
> 
> We may have one or two more chapters after this one, and then POOF! A Violent Affair is no more.
> 
> Thank you very very much for reading and sticking with me through this whole thing. 45 chapters is a ton of dedication to read through, so I appreciate you all.
> 
> See you tomorrow for the final chapter(s)(?)

43  
“You know them?” Yurei asked Tora. Tora glanced over at Yurei and nodded toward Ramsey,

“Yeah. I know this one.” 

“Stand down.” Yurei ordered, and everyone in the room put their weapons down. Tora still had Poppy in his grasp, and he looked down at her, reaching for her balaclava before Ramsey suggested in a high pitched voice,

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?” Yurei pressed suspiciously.

“I just—I wouldn’t.” Ramsey stammered, shifting uncomfortably as the rest of the de-balaclavad team slid their balaclavas back on uncomfortably.

“Take it off.” Yurei nodded to Tora. Ramsey sighed, putting his hands on his hips, and turning away mumbling,

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Tora’s hands gently pulled the balaclava off, revealing Poppy’s face. Instantly, she saw his eyes widen in shock, and then his brows furrow in anger.

“Uh. Surprise?” Poppy did a tiny wave to Tora.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tora growled, helping her up. She fidgeted with her balaclava, and shrugged, feeling absolutely deflated, saying,

“I’d think it was pretty obvious by now.”

“It’s sure as hell not to me. You’re going to get yourself killed.” Tora snarled.

“I don’t know why you treat her like she’s this frail little flower.” The Spaniard sneered in her defense, stepping in front of Poppy.

“The fuck did ya just say?” Tora bowed up at the Spaniard before the Bostonian stepped up in front of Poppy too.

“My dude, she fucking jumped off of a building, dislocated her shoulder, and still stabbed a dude in the neck when we got inside.” The Bostonian remarked.

“Yeah.” The Nigerian grinned, also stepping up to shield Poppy. “And she’s the one who threw the grenade into the office just now. Not to mention the fact that she nearly took the rooftop watch’s head off with a sniper rifle—almost.”

“Not to mention, she headshotted the shit out of some bodyguards and a few clan members a few seconds ago.” Ramsey shrugged. For the first time in her life, Poppy felt like she wasn’t just in someone else’s way when it came to this sort of thing. She was actually a contributing member of the team—a valued member of the team.

“I don’t give a shit about—“ Tora seethed.

“Why can’t you just believe in me?” Poppy’s voice was quiet, and she looked down at her balaclava again as the room went silent. “It seems like everyone else here does. Why don’t you?”

Tora was taken aback by that comment as he looked down at her. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in her. In fact, that was so far from the truth. She was the only one he really put his full faith and trust in. It was that he loved her so much that watching her voluntarily put herself in a life or death situation put him on edge. It made him feel jumpy and panicky, like he couldn’t fully concentrate.

“I do.” He told her simply, knowing she wouldn’t really understand where he was coming from. 

“I think it’s more that he doesn’t want to watch you die.” Goliath piped up from behind Tora. “For real this time.”

Tora looked down at Poppy, seeing her shrink away from him back to her group as she put the balaclava back on.

“I came here to finish this.” Poppy told him, taking a stand with her team. “If you don’t want to deal with me getting hurt or maybe dying, then why don’t you just stay here?”

Yurei glanced over at Tora, seeing his shoulders tense up. He knew Poppy was going to be a problem for him. He knew she would end up being a distraction, and he needed to get her out of the way or at least away from his attention.

“If she wants to help, she can always join the yellow team. They’re waiting for us to set the hacking device now.” Yurei suggested. 

“The yellow team?” Poppy perked up a little. Tora looked away from her, and Poppy’s smile faded. Her eyes flicked over to Goliath, who refused to look at her.

“The technology team.” Yurei clarified, pulling out the hacking device.

“But I don’t know anything about—“ Poppy stopped, and suddenly it all clicked into place. “You want me out of the picture because I’m a liability.”

“You’re a distraction.” Yurei brutally clarified. “If you’re there, he will only focus on you, which will end up getting him killed. Maybe put your pride aside for five seconds and think about the bigger picture.”

It stung. It stung a lot more than she thought it would, and Poppy felt her eyes welling up with tears.

“Don’t cry, you idiot.” Poppy chastised herself, and turned away from the group to collect herself before promptly walking out of the room without a word. For a moment, everyone stood quietly, unsure of what to do, when Goliath mumbled,

“Ah fuck.”

And off he went to chase down Poppy.

Tora remained, shoulders tense, glancing over at Ramsey, whose face had hardened into a glare. Ramsey shook his head, and Yurei stepped forward.

“Now that that’s out of the way.” Yurei remarked emotionlessly. “Where is the panic room?” 

******

“Poppy. Wait.” Goliath called after her, but Poppy kept walking furiously. Goliath finally caught up to her and she aimed a hard blow to his cheek. He stumbled backward into the wall, his eyes open in shock as he stood back up stiffly, that dangerous presence presenting itself for the first time.

“Mind telling me why the fuck you just punched the only person who gave a shit enough to come after you?” Goliath bit at her, and she bowed up to him.

“Mind telling me why the fuck you didn’t come to my defense when that guy was talking shit about me?” Poppy spat back. “You think I owe you something because you felt sorry for me?”

“Poppy, get real. Yurei was telling the truth, and you know it. You’re too fucking stubborn to listen to anyone when we asked you to stay put. It wasn’t because we didn’t think you couldn’t do it. It was because you would be in the way.” Goliath growled at her.

“If I’m in your way, why the hell are you here in my way when I’m trying to leave?” Poppy pressed.

“Because even if it is the truth, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, and the last person who should be telling you that is fucking Yurei.” Goliath told her.

“Just get out of the way.” Poppy pushed past him. “Go back to your group. I’m fine.”

Goliath stood, watching her leave, wondering why he even ran after her to begin with. He knew it would probably make things worse, but damn it, he didn’t like seeing her hurt whether the pain inflicted was right or wrong. 

He turned and went back to what was left of Balthuman’s office as Poppy went along her not-so-merry way, kicking a statue over as she did so, the statue tumbling to the ground, breaking apart into pieces as she grumbled,

“Stupid fucking small dick asshole fucking shitface mother—“ 

Poppy slowed her walking, her attention catching sight an air conditioning vent in the lower left corner of the wall. She stopped, examining the vent, seeing it screwed on by four screws. She reached up into her hair, pulling a pin out and a devious smile spread across her face as she slid her balaclava back into place.

****

“Yellow team, what’s your status?” Yurei inquired into the mic.

“Almost there.” The team lead of the yellow team answered, the tapping of keys in the background signaling his fervency in working. After about three more minutes, the elevator doors slid open.

“An elevator?” The Bostonian grumbled. “This is not looking good. We go in there, and we’re just sitting ducks. They’ll pick us off one at a time just like they did with the boats in Normandy.”

“We go in at varying elevations, guns trained on the door.” Yurei explained. “Those in the front down low, middle squatting, back standing up taller. Front row takes out those closest to us, middle and back rows focusing on the far sides.”

Everyone nodded and they piled into the elevator, assuming their positions. The ride down on the elevator was full of silence, the tension in the car was thick enough that it could be sliced with a knife. Everyone in the car knew that they were in a bad position—the worst position one could be in tactically, but there really was no other choice.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. One bullet sliced through the cracked elevator doors, striking a member of the red team as he collapsed against the back of the elevator. From there, the onslaught of bullets began, a firestorm raining to and from the elevator car.

*****

Poppy crawled on her stomach in the direction of the panic room, having replaced the vent cover on her way in. She tried to crawl as quietly as possible, but the clanking of metal under her weight made it nearly impossible.

She didn’t have to worry about being noiseless for long because the sudden staccato of constant gunfire broke the silence, and Poppy started crawling faster toward the sound of the gunfire.

In her mind, although she was furious at Tora and Goliath, she looked forward to kicking their asses herself. An unwelcome thought slithered into her brain, whispering,

“What if they die in the gunfire?”

“No.” Poppy growled to herself. “No. That’s not going to happen.”

“You’re going to be too late.” The voice whispered in her head. Poppy crawled faster as the sound of gunfire began to die down a little at a time. Her heart began pounding again, praying to herself,

“Please be alive. Please be alive.”

****

Tora, Goliath, and Yurei crawled out from the mass of bodies piled inside of the elevator into the first section of the panic room. The three of them turned back toward the elevator, sifting through the bodies for any survivors from their team.

“Get. This bloody asshole. Off of me.” They heard a grunt coming from the bottom of the bodies. The three of them saw Ramsey angrily pouting, covered in blood as they grabbed his hand, pulling him out.

“A little help here.” A heavily accented Nigerian called from below the bodies, and again, they dug through the bodies to free a bloodied teammate.

“What about—“ the Nigerian began. Ramsey shook his head, and his teammate’s head dropped.

“They knew the risks.” Ramsey told him. “And they took them.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.” The Nigerian sighed, and Ramsey nodded, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Bury it for now.” Ramsey grumbled. “We can deal with it later. Right now, we need to focus. Stay alive.”

The Nigerian nodded, and the five of them turned toward the panic room foyer. The room was stark: a white room with gray walls and bright bluish white lights. Black and white glossy tiles led to a second metal door with a keypad and fingerprint scanner outside of the door.

Breathing heavily and having been injured by the onslaught of bullets, the five of them moved toward the door, Goliath limping his way there, stepping over several bodies, the five of them administering headshots to each body on the ground to make sure they wouldn’t have to deal with any surprises as they approached the metal door.

Yurei had just dug into his pack for another hacking device when the metal door lurched forward with a heavy metallic scraping sound, opening up to a deep burgundy room. The walls of the room were padded with red velvet cushioning, a deep brown desk adorning there center of the room, several TV monitors, all displaying static screens from the yellow team taking down the surveillance, taking up an entire wall. Vincent himself sat behind the deep brown desk, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a pistol in the other. Next to him on his left side, stood Akuma, and on his right side, much to Tora’s surprise, stood Quincey.

“Tora, Goliath. Welcome.” Vincent’s voice was friendly, but his eyes were cold, and heartless. “I see you’ve brought guests.”

“Vincent.” Tora greeted him stiffly. Quincey looked away from Tora, seemingly forced to be there with his father, though Tora wasn’t sure why. Quincey was highly uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one leg to another.

“Well, here we are at last.” Vincent smiled. “Just like I knew we would be.”

“Let’s get this over with.” Tora suggested. 

“Yes. I want my son to see what his bodyguard and former friend has done. I want him to see all the people you’ve killed, the damage you’ve done. I want him to witness you killing his father or, by the same token, his father killing you.” Vincent explained. 

Akuma stepped forward, coming around the table and into the stark foyer of the panic room, and Goliath stepped up to face him. He could see a flash of regret passing through Akuma’s eyes as he faced Goliath.

“You don’t have to do this.” Goliath told him, throwing his gun to the side. Akuma followed suit, tossing his gun to the side.

“Yes.” Akuma confidently remarked. “I do.”

Akuma lunged for Goliath, taking him down to the ground quickly. Goliath, in turn, aimed several vicious jabs at Akuma’s face, thrusting his hips up, turning over, and breaking free of his grasp. He bear crawled away, and Akuma grabbed at his ankle, receiving a hard kick to the face.

Both of them stumbled back up, standing in position to fight. This time, Goliath lunged forward, throwing a hard jab at Akuma, who moved deftly out of the way, grabbing Goliath by the hair and locking him into a headlock, squeezing hard.

Goliath kicked and jabbed with his elbows to no avail as Akuma squeezed harder, bringing him down to his knees.

“Shit.” Ramsey whispered. 

Goliath slapped at Akuma’s arms, his face turning purple as he struggled to breathe.

“STOP!” Tora roared. “Just—stop.”

Akuma looked back at Vincent, who nodded, and Akuma released Goliath who fell to this stomach, coughing and gasping for breath. Akuma leaned over, retrieving his gun, then he stepped on Goliath’s back, pointing the gun to his head.

“I want everyone but Tora and Goliath back on that elevator. Now.” Vincent growled. Ramsey, Yurei, and Panther all looked at Tora, who nodded, and reluctantly, the three of them retreated back to the elevator.

Tora glanced over his shoulder at what was left of his team, and Ramsey nodded to him in support.

“Well now. We are in a bit of a precarious position now, aren’t we?” Vincent rose from his desk, a smile playing on his lips. “Because I warned you that it was either going to be you or me, boy.”

“You didn’t leave me with much of a choice after you killed Poppy.” Tora snapped. Quincey’s head snapped over to Vincent and he squawked,

“You did WHAT?” 

“Stay out of this, Quincey. This doesn’t concern you.” Vincent growled.

“How could you kill her?” Quincey was visibly distraught at hearing the news, which left Vincent running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“I will deal with you later.” Vincent growled, and Quincey shrank back at that threat.

“Now. You get to make a choice: sacrifice your brother and come back to me. We forget all of this ever happened, and you go on freely with your life. After all, it was Goliath who handed her over to me.

“Or, sacrifice yourself and your lying, disloyal, selfish brother goes free, living out the rest of his days knowing that his betrayal cost him his brother.” Vincent explained. Tora looked down at Goliath, who was still recovering from his near death experience. Then, he glanced over at Quincey, his eyes meeting Tora’s before turning away from him, tearing up.

“I’ll go.” Tora grumbled.

“No!” Goliath squirmed against Akuma’s weight. “You can’t do that. You know you can’t! You know what it would do to her.”

“Her?” Vincent purred, laughing. “Moved on already, boy? Good. Maybe dipping into a new pool has done you some good.”

“Let Goliath go.” Tora said again, softer this time. Akuma looked back at Vincent, who nodded, and he lifted his foot up, Goliath scrambling toward Tora.

“You can’t do this.” Goliath’s voice was pitchy, panicky, and Tora pushed him toward the door.

“Just go.” Tora argued.

“No.” Goliath pushed Tora, and Tora pushed back, fighting him toward the elevator. “You can’t make me leave. I won’t do it.”

“Ya don’t get a choice.” Tora sighed. 

“I fucking should! It’s my life too. I should get to choose. I want to go.” Goliath begged.

“Get the fuck in the elevator.” Tora’s voice wavered and he shoved Goliath hard, causing him to go stumbling into the elevator as Tora slammed his fist on the button.

“No. NO!” Goliath roared, in tears, as the elevator doors closed, and Tora was forced to confront his own reflection in the stainless steel door.

“Bring him to me.” Vincent ordered, and Tora felt himself being grabbed violently, pulled toward Vincent and forced into his knees. “Akuma, go back to my office. I don’t want Goliath trying anything. Don’t kill him. He is to walk free.”

Akuma nodded, turning to head out.

“And take my bitch of a son with you.” Vincent ordered. Quincey sagged in relief at not having to watch his best friend die, but the look of hurt on his face at his father’s insult was a hard pill for Tora to swallow. Akuma escorted Quincey to the elevator. When the doors opened, he helped Quincey in, who winced against the bodies he had to stand on inside of the elevator.

“Now then, boy.” Vincent sighed. “I have to wonder if all of this was worth it. Your whole team is dead. Your brother will be alone. Ramsey is going to die for his part in this. The Yamamoto clan will be wiped out, and all because of you.”

Tora looked away from him, feeling himself fall to pieces on the inside, and somehow, the only thought he could muster up was,

“Thank God Poppy isn’t here to see this.”

“You came here on a suicide mission, and you really thought you could outsmart me? I’ll admit you came really really fucking close. I was actually impressed that you managed to take so many of us down. But in the end, what was it all for? To end up on your knees like the defiant fucking dog that you are.” Vincent laughed.

“You could have been great! I raised you to be great, and you fucking fell apart over a woman! Over a bitch that was too fucking easy to take down. And where the fuck is she now? Hm? Where is she, Tora?” Vincent screamed.

“Right here.” A voice whispered into Vincent’s ear just over his shoulder. Vincent’s face went sheet white as he stood up ramrod straight. His body began to tremble as he looked over his shoulder. She held a revolver straight against his head, and his eyes trailed down to a balaclava clad head that Poppy held beneath her arm. His eyes traveled back up to her face and her lips curved into a sadistic smile.

“Did you think I wouldn’t come back to haunt you after what you did to me?” She whispered. Vincent opened his mouth to scream, and Poppy put the revolver straight into his mouth, pulling Vincent forward by his tie, the revolver pressing upward toward his skull as she growled,

“See you in hell, motherfucker.”

And she pulled the trigger, the top of his skull blowing open as a shower of blood splattered onto the ceiling, across Tora’s face, and caking Poppy’s face a deep crimson red. Vincent fell to the ground, an unrecognizable, forgettable heap of shit.

Tora gawked at Poppy, who turned to Tora, motioning with her revolver in her hand,

“I’m sorry. What was that you were saying about me getting in the way?”

She scratched her head with the revolver and feigned coming up with an answer,

“Oh, that’s right! I’ll only be a distraction. You won’t be able to focus. I should just go join the super nerds out in their pedo van.”

Poppy put the safety back on her gun, tossing it to the side, still holding the balaclava head. She sighed, pulling the balaclava off to reveal the statue’s head.

“Stupid, fucking chauvinistic—GRR!” Poppy slammed the statue head down onto what was left of Vincent’s head. Tora got up off of his knees, pulling his tactical gloves off, and approaching Poppy quickly, but she stopped him in his tracks with a hand up in the air.

“And just what the fuck do you think YOU’RE doing, Mr. I-Can-Do-It-Without-You?” Poppy seethed. “You think you’re getting anything from me? I don’t think so. You get to sleep on the fucking co—“

But before she could get the words out, Tora closed the distance between them, picking Poppy up, slamming her on Vincent’s desk, and crushing his lips to hers, his body molding itself to hers as he explored her mouth with his tongue, jerking her hips closer to his body.

“You can be mad at me all ya want.” Tora growled between kisses. “As long as ya still want me, I’ll take the couch, the floor, whatever it takes.”

Poppy wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, hands tangled up in his hair as he bit her lip gently. She moaned, breaking the kiss before saying,

“As much as I would love to fuck you right on Vincent’s fucking desk just to spite him, I do not like the idea of his dead, mutilated body being right at your feet.”

“Whose fault is it that it’s mutilated?” Tora grinned.

“Hey! I was mad!” Poppy snapped.

“Remind me not to piss ya off when there are statues around.” Tora teased.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s get out of here.” Poppy smiled.

*****

When they reached Vincent’s office, Ramsey was still pacing around the room, Akuma facing the window, his hands behind his back, Quincey and Panther leaning against the doorframe of the office, Yurei and Goliath seated on the scorched sofa. Ramsey let out a sigh of relief, seeing Tora head out first.

“Oh, mate. I thought you—“ and he stopped mid sentence, seeing Poppy emerge behind him, his mouth breaking out into a Cheshire-like grin.

“You sneaky little minx!” Ramsey laughed. “Oh. Oh, please tell me it was you who took Vincent out and not Tora. Please, God. Was it you?”

Poppy flushed a bright red, but before anyone could continue, Akuma approached the group, and Goliath moved to stand in front of Tora and Poppy. Quincey watched from the doorframe, his eyes wide in shock at seeing Poppy alive, but recognizing that no one else seemed all that surprised, quickly caught on to what was going on.

“Vincent is dead, then?” Akuma asked quietly. Tora glanced over at Quincey, who waited for his response. Yurei approached the group from the side, listening to the conversation, but keeping a bit of a distance between him and the group. 

“Yeah.” Tora affirmed. “He’s dead.”

Akuma nodded, pulling out his gun and handing it to Goliath, getting down on his knees.

“For what I’ve done to you, and your brother. This is the only way.” He put his head down. Goliath took the gun, aiming it at Akuma’s head. The group watched him intently before Goliath threw the weapon off to the side.

“I’m not killing you.” Goliath told him. Akuma got off of his knees and bowed to Goliath and Tora.

“Please accept my apologies. I have betrayed you and your loyalty.” He quietly apologized.

“I won’t say it’s okay because you would have fucking killed me had Vincent not told you to stop.” Goliath told him. “But I will say that you have a chance to go back to what you were doing before. No loyalty. No organization. Just you and yourself to look out for.”

Akuma nodded, saying,

“I’ll consider it.”

“So now.” Quincey quietly said from the other side of the room. “So now, what happens to me?”

“You become head of the Balthuman Organization.” Tora told him.

“There’s nothing left of it.” Quincey murmured.

“No. But you can change that.” Poppy gently said. “You don’t have to do things the way your father did. You can do things the right way—your way.”

“And how do I do that?” Quincey asked.

“I might know a few people who have some business experience.” Poppy grinned, elbowing Goliath. Quincey smiled briefly, looking away from them.

“Quincey,” Poppy called. She approached him timidly, reaching out to him to hold his hands. “I’m—sorry things went this way.”

“He was the one who left you no choice.” Quincey bitterly sighed.

“But he was still your dad.” Poppy told him. “And I know how it feels to lose a father.”

“No,” Quincey bitterly remarked. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone like—him.”

Poppy nodded, and Quincey pulled his hands away.

“That man was pure evil. I knew it, and everyone knew it, but there wasn’t much anyone could do about it. It was bound to catch up with him one way or another.” Quincey told her. 

“Are you upset with us?” Poppy asked.

“How could I be? You did what you needed to survive.” Quincey shrugged. “To be completely honest, it’s—sort of a relief that he’s gone.”

Poppy nodded, gently putting her hand on his shoulder, and saying,

“We are all here for you if you need us. We want to help you.”

Quincey nodded, smiling grimly, saying,

“Thanks.”

Quincey pushed off of the doorframe, waving over his shoulder and heading out of the building and back to his apartment. Panther followed him out the door, seeing that his presence was no longer needed.

“Alright, now that he’s gone,” Ramsey rubbed his hands together, prancing in place like an excited little girl, “please tell me Poppy is the one that killed him, not Tora. I need that in my life.”

Tora grinned,

“She came into the room with a statue head under her arm.” 

Ramsey howled in laughter, doubling over and patting his leg.

“Vincent looked like he was about to shit himself. He even started to scream, and she put the revolver inside of his fuckin mouth and fuckin lit him up.” Tora told him. Goliath grinned at that, turning away, and even Yurei, who was mostly expressionless did seem impressed by her once again.

“Black team. Copy.” Mizuki’s voice came in over the mic.

“Black team, go ahead.” Yurei responded.

“Is the target down?” She asked.

“Target is down.” Yurei confirmed:

“Excellent.” Mizuki breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly, Tora heard hysterical laughter over the mic.

“Something funny?” Tora asked.

“Just saw the video of Vincent’s death.” Mizuki laughed. Goliath smirked in response and Ramsey and Poppy looked at each other in confusion. “Alright everyone. Get the hell out before the cops show up.”


	46. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you guys. This is the end.
> 
> I wanted to say, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU SO MUCH, for reading A Violent Affair. It has been so much fun to write, and I have absolutely loved reading your reactions to the chapters. 
> 
> I’m not sure if I’ll write another MPL fanfic, but if I do, I’ll be sure to post it on the MPL Fastpass Facebook Page.
> 
> In the meantime, I will be regularly updating the CCC Prompts, so make sure to check back for those!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> And thank you very very much for everything.

45  
“You know,” Poppy glanced over at Tora, who was looking over the different car options in the Papaver Parking Garage, “The last time you took me up to Regina’s Peak, you told me you wouldn’t be able to see me again. Should I be worried?”

Tora smirked in Poppy’s direction,

“I also told ya that anyone who visited Thug’s Pavilion was cursed to be in the mafia for life.”

Poppy considered this, wriggling her finger a little and saying,

“Touché.”

Poppy clicked the headlights for the Koenigsegg again, smiling at Tora.

“Ohhhh, I can’t wait to drive this one.” He rubbed his hands together.

“Not so fast.” Poppy stopped him. “I’m driving.”

Tora physically deflated, frowning at her, and whining,

“But you drive like a granny.”

“Is that so?” Poppy cast a sharp glance over in his direction, opening the door to the fastest car in the world. “We’ll see about that.”

******

“SLOW DOWN!” Tora gripped the “oh shit” handle furiously. “AH, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, BOBBY! SLOW DOWN!”

Poppy glared at him, switching the gears and grumbled,

“What...have I told you...about calling me...Bobby?”

At that, her foot stepped on the gas, and Tora shrieked like a little girl, reaching over the seat and fumbling through Poppy’s purse. Poppy, upon realizing what he was doing, slammed on the brakes, the car fishtailing to a stop. Tora jolted forward, the seatbelt locking him into place as his body stopped suddenly against the belt with a pronounced,

“OOF!”

And Poppy whirled on him, shrieking,

“Are you digging in my purse?!”

Tora whipped out the pink taser, turning it on, the little bzzt bzzt throwing a line of blue electricity between the two poles.

“Slow. Down.” Tora told her, breathing hard, sure he was going to have a bruise on his chest from the psycho stop that she maneuvered. Poppy rolled her eyes, sighing, and gently pressed on the gas, driving them back up the hill. She leaned her elbow against the window, head on her hand, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh, bored with the drive as Tora began to visibly relax, a relieved smile on his face.

“Thank god.” He breathed out. Poppy nodded, when suddenly the headlights shone on a curve in the road. She took her head off of her hand, sitting up a little straighter, putting both hands on the wheel and wriggling a little in her seat.

“What are you—“ Tora looked over at her suspiciously, then his head turned toward the road, seeing the curve.

“No.” He warned, pushing the button on the taser. “Don’t you do it!”

Poppy let out an evil cackle, and stepped on the gas with Tora letting out a yell and tasing Poppy in the side.

“Stop it!” Poppy laughed, jerking the wheel around the corner as the car leaned precariously to the side, while Tora had a mini heart attack.

“I’m driving on the way back! Ya hear me? I’m driving!” Tora groaned.

****

“Well, here we are again.” Poppy smiled, unfolding a blanket for the two of them to have a midnight picnic.

“Yeah. Thank god we made it here in one piece.” Tora mumbled.

“What did you say?” Poppy narrowed her eyes at Tora, who started unpacking the bag of food Poppy had brought.

“I said, ‘Wow! My girlfriend cooks like a beast!’l Tora sarcastically responded, helping Poppy pull out several more containers. Poppy narrowed her eyes, not trusting his response, but chose not to fight it.

“Alright.” Tora rubbed his hands together, looking at the food, and passing Poppy a plate. 

“Oh! And guess what?” Poppy grinned, reaching into her purse and pulling out a long rope. Tora stopped eating mid-bite, eyeing the rope before one eyebrow arched suggestively and he leaned forward to Poppy growling,

“Ohhh. Up for a little bondage?”

He wriggled his eyebrows, and Poppy wrinkled her nose in disgust. Tora sat back, feigning offense.

“What? It was just a suggestion.” He grumbled, stuffing his mouth with rice.

“Last time we were up here, you wouldn’t let me over the railing without a rope tied to my waist.” Poppy told him.

“Yeah. I remember. You’ve always tried to give me a heart attack.” Tora pointed at her with his chopsticks, and Poppy grinned,

“What can I say? I like to live my life on the edge.”

“Alright, edge lord.” Tora snarked, picking up some of the meat that Poppy cooked, nibbling into it. “I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised considering ya jumped off of a building with nothing but a rope attached to ya waist. And ya blindly trusted Ramsey of all people.”

“Hey. Ramsey is very trustworthy!” Poppy growled.

“Yeah. Sure he is. I trust him about as far as I can throw him.” Tora rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, what’s with the sudden urge to come back here?” Poppy grinned, looking at Tora.

“Nostalgia, I guess.” Tora shrugged. The two of them ate together in silence, finishing up their meal before Poppy started packing up. 

“Hey.” Tora smiled, looking over at Poppy who was zipping up the food bag and putting it in the car. “Remember last time we came here and I told ya I felt like the graffiti just reminded me that even though the people gone, a piece of em is still here?”

“Yeah,” Poppy smiled fondly. “I remember.”

Tora headed to the car, pulling a flashlight out.

“I’ve been hearing kids are comin up here again.” He told her, shining the flashlight on the graffiti.

“Hey! That one looks like the tiger on your leg!” Poppy pointed out.

“I think the same artist did it.” Tora told her, and Poppy walked ahead of him to get a closer look at the art.

“I never really got a chance to get a good look at all of this. These people are pretty awesome!” Poppy grinned. Tora moved the flashlight along the walls, Poppy following along, seeing block letters with names of people, faces of people past, strange hybrid animals, and even some hieroglyphics.

“Pretty sure that one is new.” Tora told her, shining the light on a pillar. Poppy headed around the side of the pillar, and her eyes focused on, what looked like, an intricate diamond ring. The top of the platinum ring had a massive center diamond, shouldered by intricate diamond detail that made it look like a diamond flower was seated atop the head of the ring. The bridge of the ring was encrusted with pavè diamonds that flowed all the way around the band itself. Inside the base and shank of the ring, another rose gold band sat, the design making it look like it was rope, and curling out to the sides beneath the bridge of the ring. In between the two curls, a small circular diamond set in platinum sat.

Above the ring, in black calligraphy were the words, “Will You” and below the ring “Marry Me?”

Poppy stared at the ring, clasping her hands over her heart and sighing,

“Gosh, that’s so romantic. It’s too bad that—“

And as she turned around, she saw him, his large hands shaking, holding a blue box open, that same ring situated on the inside of the box. From what she could see, his whole body was trembling, but he stayed down on his knee as Poppy stared at him in shock, hands still clasped for her chest.

“I—I know I do a lot of dumb shit, and I say a lot of dumb shit. Maybe while we’ve been together, I haven’t made all the right choices, but I really try to—for you.” He was struggling so hard with this, considering soft and fluffy wasn’t really his style. “What I’m trying to say is—is—I love you, Poppylan—a—and I would do anything for you. I promise to live for ya, a—and if the situation ever called for it, I would die for ya. Hell, I would go to the ends of the earth for ya. I—I just need you to do one thing for me.”

“Wh—what’s that?” Poppy’s voice was breathless.

“Marry me.” He told her. “Please? I—I mean, will you marry me?”

Poppy nodded.

“Ah shit.” Tora exhaled. “Thank god.”

Poppy threw her arms around him, and kissed him, leaping up onto him and wrapping her legs around his waist.

“I guess maybe we should put this on?” He told her. She nodded, and he maneuvered her to the side of his body, taking the ring out of the box and putting it on her finger.

“Wow.” Poppy whispered, wriggling her fingers in the light. “Hey, remind me not to swim with this on.”

“What?” Tora seemed utterly confused.

“Because if I do, I’ll sink to the bottom and drown. Jesus, Tora!” She smiled, and he rolled his eyes at her. “On that note, tie me up!”

Poppy smiled, and he set her down. Poppy put her arms out wide, and he arched his suggestive eyebrow again, grabbing the rope and purring,

“Well, if you insist.”

“You are such a perv.” Poppy sighed, and he tied the rope around her waist.

“Only a perv for you.” Tora grinned, tapping her on the nose.

“You didn’t have paint on your finger, did you?” Poppy flatly asked.

“Not this time.” Tora sweetly smiled, and they stepped over the railing, Tora taking a seat first, and Poppy sitting in his lap.

“Did you ever think the last time we were here that you would be free? That we would see each other again?” Poppy looked down at the city, reminiscing back to their first night on Regina’s Peak.

“Nah. But I also didn’t imagine that you’d waltz up to Vincent with a fake head under your arm and blow his brains out either.” Tora smirked. Poppy grinned at that, looking back down at the city. Tora leaned forward, whispering in her ear,

“And...I also couldn’t ever fathom what it would feel like to run my hands over your body; to kiss you in the way that makes you shiver; to hear you moan when I’m inside you; to feel how your body reacts to mine.”

Poppy shivered, feeling him grow hard against her, as she leaned back to him, whispering,

“Hey Tora. There’s something in your pants that’s poking me.”

“Ignore it.” He whispered back, and she could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling.

“But it’s uncomfortable.” Poppy grinned.

“Just give me five more minutes.” Tora snickered.

“Or...why don’t we take care of it now?” Poppy whispered. Tora froze, and he pulled back looking at her, his face suddenly humorless.

“What? Here?” He asked in shock.

“Yes.” Poppy grinned, turning her body around toward him, straddling his body and grinding against him. “Right. Here.”


End file.
